


Nemesis

by auchterlonie



Series: An Agent's Life [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Natasha Romanov, BAMF Phil Coulson, Gen, M/M, Mind Control, SHIELD, Secrets, Trust Issues, chitauri tech, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 12:37:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auchterlonie/pseuds/auchterlonie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson thought he’d handled Loki well; he’d gotten Clint released from his sway and learned about Stark’s manipulation of Banner early enough to prevent a catastrophe. But he should have known better. Loki’s games are rarely that simple or that easy.<br/>Phil wakes to find himself still a pawn in a game where the high stakes have been raised even higher. Clint is gone and a mysterious force working behind the scenes at SHIELD places the Avengers and good agents everywhere in great danger. With his usual allies out of the picture, Phil finds himself fighting alone until a subtle hand helps him change the game. Can Phil save the day when the odds are stacked so heavily against him?<br/>(Part of a series, plot draws from previous two works in that series)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nemesis

**Author's Note:**

> I'm rating this teen and up due to violence and mentions of torture.  
> This is part of a series and draws heavily from the two previous works, 'The Last Judgment' and 'Gods and Monsters.'
> 
> This one is un-beta'd, though, so I apologize for errors or inconsistencies.

Clint Barton looked down and stared at the blood on his hands. It was shocking how much there was; it covered his palms and forearms thick enough to drip from his fingers with a steady rhythm.

He lifted one hand to study it in disbelief, watching as a tiny river of the stuff ran down his arm and snaked around his muscles until it reached his elbow. He watched it fall and drip down onto the body of man he did not know. The dead man stared up at him with glassy eyes and a look of terror permanently frozen on his face.

‘Who is this guy?’ Clint asked himself.

Clint could feel someone approach from behind, but he couldn’t turn his head to see who it was. His focus seemed rooted to the dead man as if tied to an anchor. He continued staring down as the figure drew uncomfortably near and whispered in his ear.

“He was a dangerous threat to the world. He needed to be stopped. Remember?”the voice asked with a moist, hot breath that made Clint’s skin crawl.

“Yes. I remember. He needed to be stopped.”

“That’s right,” the voice confirmed with a sly, chuckling sound. “Don’t forget to take your weapon with you.”

Clint nodded shakily and reached down to pull his arrow from the dead man’s chest. He lifted it eye level and stared at the blood as the confusion flooded back into him.

“Wait. Who was he again?”

“A nasty little man, Pet. Don’t you remember?”

Clint shook his head. The figure circled behind him and came to whisper in his other ear.

“That’s alright, Pet. Go ahead and remember.”

Clint watched as small droplets of blood formed and slowly dripped off the arrow. They landed squarely on the dead man’s forehead with a sickening rhythm.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Clint snapped awake and lay in bed listening to the nightstand clock tick its steady rhythm. He had broken out into a sweat that soaked and chilled him. Instinctively, he looked down at his hands, which were as clean as when he’d gone to bed, but seeing them wasn’t reassuring. He knew it hadn’t been a dream. He remembered that voice. He’d heard it whisper in his ear before.

Loki.

Clint shut his eyes and tried to push the stubborn images from his mind, but try as he might, all he could see was the dead man’s face and blood splashing across it. The stubbornness rattled him and left him certain he’d killed a man he did not know. It had all felt too familiar. It felt like New York.

For months after the invasion, he’d gone to bed knowing the faces of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents he’d killed while under Loki’s sway would greet him in his sleep. Nothing seemed able to keep them from haunting his dreams – not time, not pills, not drinking himself stupid. In those months, he’d started to believe that he would carry the burden of their deaths on his conscious until the end of time. They’d served as nightly reminders of his guilt and failings until the moment he’d found Phil. Phil had somehow kept the agents at bay and let Clint sleep again, like a protective talisman warding away the darkness.

But apparently no longer.

Clint rolled quietly out of the bed and pulled on some shorts. He went to the bathroom and splashed warm water on his face. He leaned heavily on the sink before studying himself in the mirror.

Calgary. He’d killed the man in Calgary. How could he have forgotten that?

Images began filling his head. He remembered the sounds and smell of the city, as well as the light rain that had started to fall. He remembered chasing the man through a small park. He remembered the feel of his bow as he’d loosed an arrow and the sound it had made as it found its mark.

Adrenaline started to flood Clint with a sickening pins-and-needles feeling. He rubbed his hands quickly through his hair, trying to rub the feeling away, but it wouldn’t go.

Loki. He remembered Loki’s voice in his ear, telling him to take the shot.

Clint sank to the floor and leaned back against the tub to keep from falling over. A strange calm settled over him as the images coalesced with startling clarity. It was as if a fog had suddenly lifted from his mind. He remembered what he’d done. He remembered the blood and the terror and he understood what it meant: he’d killed a man at Loki’s command, long after the events of New York, long after he thought he’d been freed. Loki could still use him.

After several minutes, he got up and walked back into the bedroom as if marching with a death sentence. He wasn’t afraid of what the others would do to him if they found out. Rather, he was afraid of what he would do to them; what Loki would make him do.

He looked at Phil sleeping peacefully in the bed. He looked happy and content for once, with all of his muscles relaxed and a slight smile on his face.  He was utterly defenseless. His loving, trusting nature was such that even if he woke right then and saw Clint standing above him, he’d perceive no threat. Loki could do to him whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

Clint would never forgive himself if he did something to Phil. He could carry the guilt of the other lives he’d taken and use his time with S.H.I.E.L.D. to try and clear the debt in his ‘ledger,’ as Nat would say, but Phil wasn’t a burden he’d be able to carry.

For a moment, he thought about waking Phil and telling him, but then thought better of it. Phil would try to fix it himself. He’d keep Clint close and safe; maybe reach out to Tony or Banner. Phil would search for a cure and move Heaven and Earth to find it. Loki would own Phil and get him to do anything he wanted in ransom.  Clint couldn’t take the chance that Phil would compromise S.H.I.E.L.D. or sacrifice himself in the process. He’d only just gotten Phil back.

So he thought about running and getting enough distance to keep everyone safe. His eyes flicked up to the photo of his brother Barney that he’d tacked to the wall. Barney had taught him everything he knew about surviving and chief among those lessons had been knowing when to walk away. They’d walked away from the orphanage, they’d walked away from the Circus, and they’d walked away from each other. They had always found a way to survive. He could do it again and he could keep Phil safe.

But then Clint looked down at Phil and knew that would never work. Loki wouldn’t let Clint get very far and even if he did manage to hide out, Phil would eventually find him. He’d search and search and walk right into whatever trap Loki cared to set for him. If Clint was to keep him safe, he’d have to make sure no one could find him, not even Phil.

Clint got up and moved quietly into the kitchen. He poured himself a stiff drink and then wrote out a note to Phil. He knew Phil would try to stop him from doing what he needed to do. Phil loved him, but more than that, Phil _believed_ in him and would keep on believing in him until the moment Loki took control and used Clint to kill him. Clint needed to make sure that would never happen.

He grabbed his phone and tapped out a secure message to Nat.

_> I need you to come pick me up._

_> Excuse me?_

> _I need you to take me to Fury. Loki’s still in my head._

It was several seconds before the reply came through.

_> On my way._

He knew Nat would understand. Loki might prevent him from turning himself in. Nat would be able to see things through if that happened, even if that meant putting a bullet in his head.

Clint moved quietly into the bedroom and slipped into some clothes. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Phil, but as he started moving back towards the hall, he found himself staring at the other photo on the wall – the one of Phil lying on that Tahitian beach. It had been an amazing trip where he’d seen another side of Phil, one that delighted in the joyful mischief of romance. Clint had come back with absolute certainty that he’d found a home and a family in Phil.

He slowly turned and had one last look back at Phil. He knew this was going to kill him come the morning, but it had to be done. He captured in his mind that image of Phil sleeping peacefully, and then, very quietly, left to find Nat.

***

Phil smiled as the morning sunlight hit his face and slowly woke him. He took a deep breath and stretched before opening his eyes and looking towards Clint - or, as he discovered, where Clint should have been. The sheets had been thrown back and the pillow was empty.

Phil rolled over and listened for sounds of movement in the apartment. He was a little surprised that Clint had woken before him and even more surprised that he’d gotten up without waking him. It was testament to just how deeply Phil had slept.

He got up, slipped into some clothes, and moved towards the kitchen, hoping Clint had made coffee. Phil needed to tell him about their visitor last night and coffee was definitely going to be the key to that going smoothly. He didn’t relish having to tell Clint that he’d been a pawn in Loki’s latest game, but it was definitely something Clint needed to know.

Clint wasn’t in the kitchen, though. Instead of coffee, it looked like he had poured himself a drink. Phil looked around and spotted the note on the table.

_Phil,_

_Please just trust me._

Phil stared at the note and tried to figure out what he’d missed. Trust him about what?

“Clint?” he called out into the apartment. Getting no reply, he grabbed his phone and dialed Clint’s number. It rang in the living room and Phil was suddenly filled him with cold alarm. Clint was never without his phone. Hearing it ring unanswered was like seeing him without his bow…

His bow. Phil poked his head back through the bedroom door and saw the bow still propped against the dresser. Wherever Clint had gone, he hadn’t taken either of the things he was never without. Phil stood dumbstruck in the doorway, staring at the bow and trying to figure out what could possibly have happened in the night.

Loki. Phil’s worries about Clint had barely formed when he recognized with absolute certainty this had to be Loki’s doing. Loki must have played Clint the way he’d tried to play Phil the night before.

Phil’s phone suddenly vibrated in his hand and he looked down at it. It was Clint calling. He answered and turned around towards the living room where Natasha stood across from him in the doorway, holding Clint’s phone. She moved her thumb and hung up the call. She stared at Phil with a malevolent calmness that made him instantly wary.

“Where’s Clint,” he asked her.

“At S.H.I.E.L.D., under armed guard.”

“What? Why? What happened?”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

Phil suddenly felt the blood rush up into his head as worry and fear gave way to angry frustration. He was in no mood to play games. He crossed his arms tightly across his chest.

“Excuse me? Tell me what happened right now.”

She considered him for a long moment. Phil could tell she was upset and struggling to decide when and how to take out her frustration. He knew if he said anything more or moved so much as a muscle, she would lash out at him like a marksman at a clay pigeon, so, he waited her out. He struggled desperately to maintain his own composure, but he held her stare.

“He had me take him in. He thinks Loki is still in his head,” she said finally.

“Oh no…” Phil turned and moved quickly into the bedroom. He found his tie and jacket and a few other things from around the room. He knew exactly how they would treat Clint if they thought he was still possessed. Phil needed to get to HQ quickly and stop things from getting out of hand. He turned to move back towards the kitchen, but Nat was standing in the doorway, blocking his path and scrutinizing him.

“Nat, please. I need to get down there and stop this.”

“Why? Can you get Loki out of his head?”

Phil shook his head. “No, it’s all a misunderstanding.”

“You seem pretty sure of that.”

“Nat, please.” He tried to move past her, but she wouldn’t let him.

“No, Coulson. Tell me what’s going on. How do you know it’s a misunderstanding? Because last night, Clint was pretty damn sure it wasn’t.”

Phil shook his head again and tried to think what to tell her.

“Coulson,” she started a little softer. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I’ll get him out of this, Nat.”

“No. What’s wrong with _you_? I walked him into that room and the only thing he was worried about was you. He made me promise to look after you. Why do you need looking after?”

‘Damn it, Clint. If this is all some misguided attempt to protect me…’ he thought to himself. Phil let out a frustrated breath and pushed past her.

“I don’t,” he said, collecting his keys from the table. He moved towards the front door.

“Your hands are twitching.”

Her words made him stop in his tracks and now that she’d drawn attention to them, he could feel his fingers twitching with their mechanical rhythm. She slowly walked towards him and came to stand between him and the door.

“That’s not normal, Coulson. What’s wrong with you?”

It was neither the time nor the place to have the conversation, but then again, Coulson realized, there would never be such a time or place. Nat was an intelligent woman and she’d seen his tell. She would never forget it and she would, in time, find out what it meant. There was no point left in hiding.

“I… didn’t exactly recover from New York.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“Tony Stark doesn’t care about other people, he cares about his toys. No way he was monitoring your recovery unless he did something to you, something he needed to assess. Am I right?”

It was startlingly accurate. Phil nodded.

“What is it? Like a fancy pacemaker or something?”

Phil grimaced, thinking of the best words. “It’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“Are you a robot?”

Phil almost laughed at how unsettlingly quick she was. “You jumped from pace maker to robot in less than two seconds?”

She nodded solemnly.

“Not exactly,” he said after a second. “But yes.”

She kept watching his eyes and then slowly nodded her head. “But something has gone wrong and that’s why your fingers are twitching,” she continued. “It’s why Clint is so worried about you.”

“Nat,” he said softly. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

She moved back towards the kitchen and picked up Clint’s glass. She poured herself a drink and sat at the table. Phil only briefly considered mentioning how early it was to be drinking, but thought better of it. He quietly moved to sit across from her and folded his hands on the table. Were it not for the twitching fingers, he would have appeared as patience personified.

“He had a dream or something where he realized Loki was still controlling him. He remembered killing a man in Calgary - he doesn’t know who or why – but he remembers Loki’s voice in his head. He was pretty sure if he told you, you’d tried to fix it, so he had me bring him in. He’s expecting Fury to lock him away until they can figure out what to do.  Why are you shaking your head?”

“Because this is a game Loki is playing. He’s not in Clint’s head anymore.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because Loki was here last night. He tried to play me, but I got him to release Clint instead.”

“So he _was_ controlling him.”

“Yes.”

“And Clint did kill that man?”

Phil nodded. “But he’s his own man now. We can deal with the rest, but we have to get him out of S.H.I.E.L.D. before they do something rash.”

 She downed her drink and considered that. “You said he tried to play you. How?”

It was a long story he didn’t particularly want to tell, but Phil trusted Nat as much as he did Clint and knew she was just as worried. She was going to be involved in Clint’s situation as much as he was and deserved all the facts. He laid out the previous night’s conversation for her, explaining the choice Loki presented to either release Clint or stop Stark’s manipulation of Banner. As he explained that last part, he could see realization and alarm appear on her face and he kicked himself for not reaching the same realization faster.

“Banner,” he said to her.

She nodded in reply. “If Stark’s been playing those games, the Big Guy could pop out at any moment.”

Phil dialed Pepper and put it on speaker so Nat could listen.

“Phil? Oh, I’m so glad you called,” she said on answering.

“Good morning, Miss Potts. Is everything alright?”

“Well, that’s why I’m so glad you called. Look, I know we didn’t end our conversation on the best of terms last night…” she continued. Nat raised an eyebrow at the words and studied Phil, making him blush just a little from the scrutiny.

“It’s fine, Miss Potts. Really.”

“Pepper, Phil. Please call me Pepper. I think we’re at least at that level of intimacy, don’t you?”

Nat’s other eyebrow raised at that and Phil could see her mind working scenarios.

Phil focused down on the phone and away from Nat’s glare. “Alright, Pepper. Can you tell me something?”

“What?”

“Is Dr. Banner in Stark Tower this morning?”

“Yes. He and Tony are working on a project. Why, is something wrong?”

Phil and Nat got up at once and moved towards the door. As worried as they were about Clint, the Big Guy would have to take precedence for now if they were to avert a disaster.

“Probably not, but can you please do me a favor?” he asked on their way out of the apartment.

“Anything.”

“Can you quietly evacuate the building?”

***

They moved quickly, but so do Pepper. By the time they arrived on scene, hundreds of Stark employees were milling in front of the building. This clearly wasn’t their first safety evacuation, though. As Phil got out of the truck, he noticed that none of the employees were on cell phones or any other device for that matter. They knew better than to draw unnecessary attention, but if Phil and Nat couldn’t resolve this situation quickly, their very presence on the street would generate unwanted questions. Given who they were, S.H.I.E.L.D. would certainly send a team to investigate.

Pepper greeted them at the door. She fell in stride beside them as they entered the building.

“Are they still upstairs?” he asked her.

“Yes. I was assuming by ‘quietly evacuate the building’ you meant ‘don’t alarm Bruce.’”

Phil nodded in response as they entered the elevator.

“What’s going on, Phil? Is Bruce alright?”

“I hope so, Pepper. I really hope so.”

He didn’t tell her how he knew; just _that_ he knew what Tony was up. He didn’t have to explain the potential consequences. She rolled her eyes and tapped something on her tablet. She clearly had neither known nor was surprised by the news.

“So what do we do?” she asked.

“Hopefully, we just talk. I have a ready excuse for why we’re here,” he replied, holding up his twitching fingers so she could see. “Maybe while Tony is fixing one thing, I can convince him to stop trying to fix something else.”

The elevator doors opened and they stepped into Stark’s lab. Instead of following, Pepper moved off down the hall, tapping on her tablet.

“Maybe, but I think we’re going to need a Plan B,” she said quietly.

***

“Well, well,” Tony said on seeing them. “If it isn’t my least grateful friend, Agent Frownypants. Banner? You remember Agent Frownypants and his Girl Friday, right?”

Bruce was sitting at a large, empty desk just to the side of Tony’s workspace. He was clutching a mug of tea and reading data on a holographic monitor projected at eyelevel. Phil might not have noticed them if he hadn’t been looking, but he spotted the tension in Bruce’s fingers. It made them appear startlingly white against the black Stark Industries mug.

He nodded in their direction. “Hey,” he said.

“How are you, Dr. Banner?” Phil asked.

Bruce shrugged and returned his attention to the readout. It was a very casual move, but one that concerned Phil. He’d spent a fair amount of time with Bruce while recovering in Stark Tower – if ‘recovering’ was the right word for acclimating to a new body. Phil shook that thought away, though. He knew Bruce was having an oddly similar struggle trying to understand his own body and the unknown within. But for Bruce, it was worse because he couldn’t work through that struggle alone. Unlike Phil and his twitching fingers, if Bruce ever lost control, the whole world would notice.

Phil and Bruce both knew that S.H.I.E.L.D., A.I.M., and all of the other acronyms of the world were monitoring him and would eventually provoke him. Some wanted to lock him away, others wanted to use him, some wanted to do both. Everyone saw him as a weapon.

Except Tony. Tony had seen him as a man and a colleague. He had offered him safe haven in Stark Tower and had had the ability to back up that offer. No one would set an unwanted foot inside Stark Tower without exceptionally good reason… or a death wish. Even S.H.I.E.L.D. knew better.

Bruce had occupied the floor just above Phil’s and as reclusive as he was, they had often found times to chat. Phil had found Bruce to be a soft spoken, deep thinker. He’d never brought up politics or religion or any other subject that could inspire frustration, but instead kept things light - movies, art, great places for take-out - but somehow, Bruce had always turned the conversation into something more thought-provoking and significant. He had a way of engaging the parts of Phil’s brain that he rarely got to utilize. They were conversations Phil came to treasure.

Over the course of those conversations, Phil had learned the intricacies of Bruce’s body language. He could guess at Bruce’s mood after a single glance and looking at him now, he could tell that Bruce was not quite feeling well. He was overly exaggerating his composure, suggesting to Phil that he was actually struggling to maintain it.

“So what brings you by, Agent?” Tony asked while closing down screens.

Phil held his hands up towards Tony, showing him the twitching fingers. “Just hoping for a quick conversation.”

“Well, that’s interesting,” Tony replied, his eyes narrowing on the fingers. “Let’s take a walk over here.”

Tony started walking towards another part of the lab - and out of Bruce’s line of sight, Phil noticed. Phil moved to follow and drew no attention to the fact that Natasha had taken up a good, tactical position for observing Bruce without disturbing him.

“Jarvis?” Tony called out into the room. “What’s going on with him? Where’s the short?”

A holographic projection of Phil’s inner workings immediately displayed in front of them. Tony walked among the images, scrutinizing this and that, looking for the flaw. He found the problem before long and shook his head slightly. He turned to Phil with a smirk on his face.

“A wire is unseated. It’s from when you flinched. I told you not to move.”

“Did you?” Phil asked. “I’m not sure I remember much beyond the feel of a soldering iron in my chest.”

“You baby,” Tony replied, chuckling. “Take of your shirt.

It was relatively quick this time. There was another long needle and another searing pain. Phil shuddered violently once, but then all was settled. He looked at his fingers and saw they were as still as stone.

“Thank you,” he said to Tony. He noticed the hint of a genuine smile playing at Tony’s mouth.

“It’s what I do,” Tony replied, moving off to replace his equipment.

“Yes, I know.”

Tony turned an amused, sideways glance at him. “Hmmm…” he said, turning back to wave away the projections. “That sounds like a leading statement. Something on your mind, Agent?”

“I know what you’ve done to Dr. Banner. I’d like you to stop it before something goes wrong.”

“Hmm…” Tony said, nodding. “So, you’re perfectly happy to take my help, but God forbid I help someone else. Is that about the sum of it?”

“It’s dangerous, Tony. You’re going to provoke the Hulk and that’s not something any of us can control.”

“Right…” he replied, stretching out the word. “You guys are really something, you know that? If you can’t personally control it, tag it, and box it, then it’s too dangerous. Did you ever stop to think that maybe this is in his best interest?”

“Did you ever stop to ask him?”

“How do you know I didn’t? How do you know this isn’t his idea?”

“Because I had a visitor last night who told me otherwise.”

“Oh yeah? Who was that? Some S.H.I.E.L.D. lab tech who thinks he knows a thing or two about the world? Because I have to tell you. Whoever they were, Bruce and I know a hell of a lot more than they ever will,” Tony replied, his voice rising.

“It was Loki.” The quiet statement stopped Tony and the defensive arguments rising within him. It was probably the last thing he’d expected to hear and the shock made him stop and think.

“Loki, huh? I thought Captain Shakespeare took him to jail.”

“He was released. He wanted to repay his debt to me and offered to stop your nanites before the Hulk emerged and killed everyone in Stark Tower.” He took a few steps towards Tony. “Banner and Hulk can’t actually be separated, Tony. They aren’t two different things.”

“You don’t know that. _I_ don’t even know that.”

“And yet, you’re willing to take the risk. Think about what you’re doing, Tony. This isn’t like working on me. If things had gone wrong, it wasn’t like I was going to explode.”

Tony was just a little too unresponsive to that for Phil’s liking. Phil frowned deeply. “Tony, I’m not going to explode, am I?”

Tony turned away and walked deeper into the lab, decidedly not answering the question. ‘One problem at a time,’ Phil told himself as he followed Tony back.

“It’s a little different, I’ll grant you, but its fine. It’s under control. And need I remind you?” he asked, turning on Phil. “I don’t answer to you. If anything, you answer to me.”

“So that’s it, is it? As long as you think you can control something, it’s fair game. To heck with whomever you hurt in the process.”

“No one is going to get hurt.”

“What about Dr. Banner?”

“He’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Listen to yourself, Tony. ‘I’ll make sure of it?’ How can you say that? How can you even think it? You can’t control something like that. And have you even stopped to ask if Bruce actually wants to be separated?”

“Of course he does. He wants his life back.”

“Maybe he does. But he deserves to make that decision. You don’t get to decide what’s best for everyone.”

“And neither do you, Agent. Neither do you. S.H.I.E.L.D. has a real nasty habit of making decisions for everyone because you always know what’s best, don’t you? You make the call on what the world can see and do. You decide when enough’s enough, right? When something needs to be boxed up and shipped out to the Sandbox. When it’s best to nuke a city.”

And there it was, Phil realized – what was really bothering Tony and what had pushed him in this direction. As if it hadn’t been enough for Tony to protect the city from the Chitauri invasion, he’d also had to protect the city from S.H.I.E.L.D. itself. The only reason the city still stood was because Tony had defied S.H.I.E.L.D. and made his own call. He’d deflected their missile into the alien mother ship, saving millions of lives and winning the war.

That missile may not have leveled the city, but it had sure destroyed the fragile trust Tony had begun to develop; the trust Phil himself had worked so hard to build. Now, it would seem that if Tony couldn’t fix the problems, he’d imagine worse consequences. It was why he’d saved Phil from death, Pepper from Extremis, and now Bruce from the Hulk.

It made so much sense to Phil and his heart went out to Tony. The betrayal had affected him more deeply than Phil had realized. It wasn’t just that Tony _could_ do something, it was that he felt he _needed_ to. He was doing everything in his power to protect the people he cared most about.

It made sense, but it still had to stop.

“Tony,” he said quietly. “I get it. Believe me, I do. But this isn’t the way.”

Tony laughed in response. “And I suppose you get to decide that sort of thing.”

“No,” Phil said quietly but firmly. He took a step closer to Tony, “What you do next is your choice. But I’m asking you – as a friend – to make a different one.”

Tony held his stare and after a moment, Phil could see his features begin to soften. Perhaps he was considering Phil’s words, perhaps he was beginning to think of alternative experiments, perhaps he was thinking up some clever retort. Phil would not get the chance to find out.

“That’s an interesting strategy to not involve the guy this actually effects.”

Tony and Phil turned to look at Bruce, who had walked quietly into their part of the lab. He had turned an ashen, sea-sick color and was holding his stomach. Phil couldn’t be certain from the distance, but he also appeared a few inches taller than normal. It was concerning. Just as concerning, was that Natasha was not with him.

“Bruce…”

“Don’t. Tony, just don’t.” He took a few stumbling steps into the room like he was beginning to have difficulty controlling his motor functions. “What were you going to do to me?”

Tony smiled his best salesman’s smile. “Hey… no, this? It’s nothing. I just took some scans, honest. I was going to show you what I found.”

“ _Just_ some scans, Tony? You don’t _just_ scan anything. What were you looking for? What were you going to do to me?” Bruce asked, stretching each word out through clenched teeth.

“Where’s Natasha?” Phil interrupted while instinctively stepping between Tony and Bruce. If he’d managed to take her out while still in his own form, he clearly had an ace up his sleeve. Phil was very wary of learning what that was.

“She’ll be fine,” Bruce replied, taking a few more steps towards them. He leaned down onto a lab table for support. He closed his eyes very briefly, wincing at some pain. Phil used it to pull his gun, Tony to put on the bracelets that connected to his suit.

“You don’t want to know all of the scenarios I’ve envisioned of someone storming in here to take me. It’s amazing the kind of security measures you can create when you’re properly motivated and know what you’re doing.” He looked up at Phil. “And I do know what I’m doing. She’ll wake up in a few days.”

“Bruce, seriously. There’s nothing going on here that you need to worry about,” Tony said.

“You know? I would love to believe you, but two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents walk into your private lab, one to watch me while the other has a word? And I take a look at the cameras and realize the whole building has been evacuated? Stuff like that makes me nervous.”

Tony turned to look at Phil. “You evacuated my building?”

Phil shrugged in response. “I couldn’t take the risk to innocent lives.”

“See?!” Bruce shouted. He quickly clenched his eyes shut as if fighting a headache. “Stuff like that does not make me feel very centered.”

Tony took a few steps towards him, his arms up in a good will gesture. “Bruce. It’s just us here. Me and Agent. You know us. We’re not going to do anything stupid.”

Fury’s voice suddenly shouted through Phil’s earpiece loud enough for Tony to hear. “ _Coulson! You want to tell me what’s happening at Stark’s?”_

Bruce saw them both react to it. “Just us, huh? And what, a S.H.I.E.L.D. assault team?”

“ _Answer me, Coulson_.”

“Sir, please give me a moment,” Coulson replied.

“ _Give you a moment_?”

“Bruce, inject yourself with the cocktail. Calm down,” Tony calmly pleaded.

“I don’t want to calm down, Tony. I want to know what’s going on. The Other Guy wants to know what’s going on.”

“ _Am I sending up a team, Coulson?”_

“Sir, please. Let me get control of the situation.”

“ _Like you got control of the whole Barton situation_?”

Tony heard it and turned to Phil with a look of genuine concern. “Barton? What happened to Barton?”

Phil shook his head. “Not now, Tony.”

“They did something to Barton, didn’t they?” Bruce called out, stumbling another few steps towards them. Phil could see his growing muscles straining against his clothes. “The chatter has been all over this morning.”

“You’re monitoring S.H.I.E.L.D. chatter?” Tony asked him.

“As I said. Properly motivated,” Bruce replied.

Phil was searching for an escape route, but he and Tony were rapidly being cornered. Things were going to get messy if this didn’t end quickly.

“Romanov brought him in. Romanov! They were supposed to be friends!” Bruce shouted.

Phil kept his posture loose and took a step towards him. “They are. Clint asked her to bring him in.”

“Why would he do that?!”

“Because he thinks Loki is still controlling him.”

“Loki?!”

“Yes. But he’s not controlling him. It’s just a misunderstanding, like this is. No one is going to trap you or harm you in anyway, least of all Tony. Isn’t that right, Tony?” he asked, looking back at him.

“Yeah. Sure. I swear,” he replied.

Phil clenched his jaw. Tony’s unconvincing response wasn’t exactly going to rebuild Bruce’s faith. Even with all this going on, Tony still didn’t understand what he’d done or why Bruce had every right to be angry. Phil was going to have to clean up another one of Stark’s spectacular messes.

“Look at me,” Phil said, turning back towards Bruce. “I owe my life to him. Whatever Tony is or is not, whatever he does… he does it because he cares about us. Trust that.”

An agonizingly slow series of seconds passed with Phil and Tony watching Bruce breathe and think. His eyes flicked back and forth between them.

“I know how easy it is to be afraid, Dr. Banner,” Phil continued. “And how hard it is to trust someone with your life, especially when that life can be used as a weapon.”

“What would you know of it, Phil? You know nothing of what it’s like.”

“That’s not true,” Phil continued. “I know what it’s like to wake up and wonder if you’re still the same person you used to be or if you ever can be again. I know what it’s like to have friends turn on you and treat you like a… like a thing, like you’re not even human anymore.”

He took another step forward. “I _know_ , Dr. Banner. I know what’s it like to get used to operating alone and to trusting only yourself… but then one day have to question if you can even do that anymore. I know it, Dr. Banner.”

Phil watched Bruce’s breathing begin to slow and even out. “I’m not asking you to trust Tony - that’s up to you and him – but I am asking you to trust me. To trust that what I’m saying is true. That I’m not here as anything but your friend. Think back, Bruce. Have I earned that trust?”

Bruce watched them both closely and continued to think. After a moment, he reached into his pocket and pulled out an auto injector.

“What is that?” Phil asked Tony quietly out of the side of his mouth.

“It’s a cocktail of sedatives. It’s a good thing.”

Phil breathed a sigh relief and began thanking his lucky stars that he’d gotten there in time to avert something worse, but no sooner had the thought crossed his mind then flash-bang grenades lit up the outer lab.

Bruce started to spin towards the noise and became the Hulk as Fury and his assault team stormed the floor. The Hulk roared at them and shots rang out. Tony was hit while still calling his suit towards him. Phil watched him fly back and crash into the lab table as his armor continued to form around him. Phil ran to cover him.

“Tony? Are you alright?” He got no response.

The Hulk roared again and swung a fist through several agents. Phil winced at the sickening, bone breaking crunch and then watched as another agent was picked up and flung towards him. The Hulk turned to step on one of the fallen agents and Phil raised his gun and fired. He knew the bullets would be nothing but a mere annoyance to the big lug, but Phil needed to turn his attention. He’d be damned if he’d stand by and let a man die.

The Hulk turned to face him, all but ignoring the remaining assault team members. Phil stood and returned the stare. “I’m sorry, Dr. Banner,” he said before unloading his clip into the Hulk’s chest.

The Hulk laughed.

Phil dropped his spent clip and reloaded. He held his ground and fired again, buying the men time to move. The Hulk picked up a chair and threw it at him with great force, but Phil dodged it casually. He stepped over Tony and fired again. The Hulk responded by the throwing Tony’s workbench at him.

Phil dove out of the way, barely avoiding the bench which bounced with a heavy clang off of Tony’s suit. The computer terminals, monitors, peripherals and tools rained down on them both. Phil took several hits to the body and head. He felt blood begin to trickle down his cheek.

This needed to end.

Phil slid back over and raised Tony’s armored hand. He aimed it at the Hulk.

“Jarvis!” he called out to the room, hoping the virtual assistant would recognize and respond to him.

“Yes, sir?” replied the disembodied voice.

“Fire this repulsor! Now!”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I cannot.”

The Hulk laughed again and started to walk towards him.

“Please, Jarvis! Fire!”

“I cannot, sir. I’ll hit Miss Potts.”

Phil readjusted his attention from the Hulk and noticed a pair of armored legs standing behind him. The Hulk violently stumbled forward as if reacting to a massive blow from behind. He turned, swinging a massive backhand. Pepper in one of Tony’s armored suits flew back on her repulsors and hovered out of reach.

“I know you’re in there, Bruce,” she called out. “Don’t do this.”

He stepped towards her and lashed out, trying to grab her. She fired her repulsors at him, knocking him back, and then again flew out of his reach.

“Jarvis! 23-19!” she shouted.

Phil recognized a hum rising rapidly in the air around him. It was quickly oppressive and he ground his fists into his temples trying to ward off the headache it produced. He was vaguely aware of the lights flickering and the Hulk roaring, seemingly in the distance. Phil tried to wrench open his eyes which were instinctively squeezing shut against the pain. He could see lasers fire in stuttered sequence from ports around the room. Then, he heard several ‘hisses,’ as if from air rifles. The Hulk roared again and collapsed.

He was Banner again, laying unconscious in tattered scraps of clothing.

The sound continued to blare and Phil could see other agents struggling to move, either because of their injuries or because of the pain the sound had caused. Phil struggled to stand. As he did, he saw Pepper swoop down and pick Bruce up. She flew off with him down the hall.

With the threat gone, Phil turned back to Tony. He slid over and tried to pry open Tony’s facemask.

“Tony, can you hear me?”

“I wouldn’t do that, sir.”

“Why not, Jarvis?”

“Because the suit is keeping his injuries contained. I would not release the pressure until he is within reach of proper medical attention.”

Pepper was suddenly kneeling beside him. He hadn’t heard her approach because of the oppressive hum, but he tried not to let it startle him.

“Pepper, he needs help. Can you cut the sound?”

“I can,” she replied. “But not until I’ve gotten them out of here.”

“You two and Banner?”

“Yes. We’ve had a contingency plan for some time.” She looked at the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who were working their way towards them. “I can’t let you take him. We owe him that much.”

She reached over and picked Tony up without much difficulty. “Will you be alright?” she asked Phil.

He nodded. “Will he?”

She didn’t answer. She simply flew off with him down the hall. Fifteen seconds later, the oppressive hum cut out. Phil almost felt lighter with the pressure gone and the lab space seemed to have a cavern-like silence.

Until it was broken.

“Coulson!”

He looked up to see Fury approaching him rapidly. Phil stood up and holstered his weapon. He brushed a little dirt off his sleeve before facing his Director.

“Sir…” he started before Fury lashed out a tremendous right hook. Phil’s lights were out before he hit the floor.

***

Phil woke up in a S.H.I.E.L.D. interrogation room. His hands were cuffed to the table and his head had been laid across them at an awkward enough angle to make his neck stiff. Either that or he was feeling the whiplash from Fury’s sucker-punch. He could feel the heavy bruise that must have formed on the side of his head and the dried blood on his cheek from when the Hulk had thrown the table at him.

From his quick assessment, he guessed he’d been out for a while. Maybe Fury had drugged him before moving him to… wherever he was. Phil had no way of knowing how much time had passed and therefore no way to guess where he was.

He slowly sat up and stretched as much as the cuffs would allow. He started a series of breathing exercises designed to maximize the amount of oxygen getting to his brain, trying to clear his head of whatever chemicals they’d filled him with. After a moment, he started to wonder if he still needed to get oxygen to his brain or if the synthetic components there operated without such a need. It was a bizarre thought, but not a distressing one like it might have been a few days earlier. The idea of being partially synthetic was becoming an academic one to him. Phil was starting to grow curious about his body’s abilities and limitations. He was especially curious to see how quickly the bruises would heal.

The thoughts were still circling in his mind when Fury and Hill entered the room. Fury kept his eyes firmly on Phil as he came to sit across from him. Hill took a position in the room’s corner, standing underneath one of the multi-use ports that served as both a recording and weapons station. Phil noticed her eyes flick uncertainly towards the darkened two-way glass before settling on him. Clearly, someone else was about to witness this interrogation from the other room and whoever that was, they had rattled Hill.

Phil sat up a little straighter at that realization. He knew that Hill was not someone who got rattled. Phil couldn’t even think of someone who could _unsettle_ her. It was Phil’s first clue that something was amiss at S.H.I.E.L.D.

“Were you aware that Miss Potts had a flying suit?” Fury asked, snapping Phil’s attention back.

“No sir, I was not.”

“Hmm…” Fury replied, nodding his head.

“We were a bit surprised too, when she showed up carrying Agent Romanov’s unconscious body.”

Pepper must have snuck into the lab while Bruce was confronting him and Tony, Phil realized. He was grateful she had pulled Nat to safety, but it probably explained why Fury had decided to breach the lab. It had proved a very unfortunate decision.

“Is she alright?” Phil asked.

“You don’t get to ask questions in this room,” Fury replied calmly and quietly. That tone of voice was somehow more disturbing to Phil than if he’d been yelling. “Were you aware the lab was armed when you walked in, or did you just willfully walk yourself and a senior agent into a trap?”

“Banner armed the lab without Stark’s knowledge.”

“Oh, you’re kidding?” he asked with mock surprise. “You’re telling me that two super geniuses with authority issues didn’t trust each other? I’m shocked.” Fury crossed his arms over his chest. “Why were you?”

“Sir, I…”

“Were you aware that Mr. Stark had designed a failsafe system that can apparently revert the Hulk back to Dr. Banner?” he asked, cutting off Phil’s answer with a look of complete disinterest.

“No, sir.”

“Do you know where Miss Potts is likely to have hidden him?”

“No, sir.”

“Did you know that Agent Barton killed an unknown man in Calgary.”

“Yes, sir.

“Yes, sir?” he asked, leaning in with eyebrows raised. “You knew he murdered someone and didn’t report him?”

“I found out this morning, sir.”

“So you _didn’t_ know until he turned himself in.”

“No, sir.”

“Hmm…” Fury nodded his head before leaning back. “You’re sleeping with the man, Coulson, and yet when he realized he was still being controlled by one of the most powerful enemies we’ve ever known, did he trust you enough to mention it?”

The question hit Phil like a brick. He didn’t let it show on his face, but the hard truth was difficult to hear. Phil had trusted Clint with his biggest secret just the night before, but Clint hadn’t been able to do the same. In his moment of crisis, he’d turned to someone else.

“No, sir,” he replied grudgingly.

“That’s quite an indictment against you, Coulson. Almost seems like he didn’t trust you.”

Phil clenched his jaw to keep himself from saying something he’d regret. He had a feeling on why Clint had done what he’d done, but no matter the reason, it was a private conversation he wanted to have with Clint, not one he wanted recorded and analyzed by unknown persons.

“So let me see if I’ve got this all straight,” Fury continued after a moment. “You have two agents and three assets under your responsibility. One of them is being controlled like a video game assassin, another one is in a coma thanks to your lack of intelligence. Miss Potts is now in possession of a weapons platform of unknown capabilities, Dr. Banner has turned against the few people he seemed to trust, and Mr. Stark is, of course, behind nearly all of it. And all before 9 am. It’s shaping up to be a hell of a day for you.”

“Sir, let me explain…”

“Oh, please do. But fist tell me, at what point did you forget the Avengers reported to S.H.I.E.L.D. and not the other way around?”

“Sir, it’s a misunderstanding.

“Oh really? Which part?”

“All of it, sir.”

“All of it, sir,” Fury repeated, either clarifying or mocking him. Phil couldn’t tell. “It’s a misunderstanding that no one told you about Potts? Or about Stark’s little light show against the Hulk… which, I might add, thanks to your complete lack of intel, we’re still trying to assess - see if our agents were exposed to something harmful. Gamma radiation, for example.”

Fury leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest again. “So which part of that was a misunderstanding?”

“Loki’s playing a game with us, sir. He’s breeding distrust.”

Fury watched him for a moment before leaning in towards Phil and folding his hands on the table. He got within inches of Phil’s face.

“Loki? You think he’s involved?” he asked quietly, with a look of great concern.

“Yes, sir.”

Fury nodded once. “Do I look like a complete idiot to you, Coulson?!” he shouted back. “Of course he is! Barton walked himself in here this morning like a damn Trojan Horse. You don’t think a Level 1 agent could reason he’s involved here somehow?!”

“Clint’s not being controlled, sir.”

“I’m touched that’s the one thing you’re concerned about in all of this. I’m sure it will be of great comfort to Agent Barton while he’s thinking about life from his cell.”

“Sir, I can fix all of this.”

“Can you fix Agent Romanov?”It was another question that was hard to hear. Nat had known the dangers of facing the Hulk and had prepared accordingly, but she hadn’t expected Banner to be a threat as well. She’d followed Phil’s lead and Phil had grossly misread the situation. He’d relied on his familiarity with Tony and that mistake had cost her dearly.

“No, sir,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. He knew this whole situation was his fault. He’d gotten cocky facing Loki, even after Frigga’s warning. His mind started to drift towards all the other choices he could have made.

“Look,” Fury said a little softer. “Maybe Loki’s in his head, maybe he’s not, but there’s no way Loki would just let him turn himself in. Either he sent Barton as a distraction or a plant, or Loki’s not in there at all. But that’ll be up to me to figure out. Not you. You’ve already failed that test miserably. ”

“Sir…”

“What concerns me even more is that I apparently have senior agents who are completely oblivious to threats in their own backyard. It’s making me wonder if any of you got your head straight after New York. No, Barton’s got a lot to prove right now, so he’s going to stay wrapped up for a while. We have a lot of questions for him. But that’s not really my problem right now because, thanks to you, I have a much bigger one,” Fury continued.

“Sir?”

“Did you tell Agent Barton about your situation?”

“My situation, sir?”

“Don’t give me that, Coulson. Did you tell him what you are?”

Phil briefly considered his options, but he knew lying wouldn’t ultimately save him any trouble. Fury wouldn’t have asked the question so bluntly if he didn’t already know the answer.

“Yes, sir. I did.”

“Against my orders?”

“Yes, sir.”

Fury pushed back in his chair.  “Then my hands are tied. I told you what would happen if you did, so this is on you. I’m ordering you shut down and boxed up until we figure out what to do with you.”

“Sir…”

“Don’t ‘sir’ me, Coulson!” Fury snapped back with a frustrated anger. “I warned you. I _ordered_ you and you went your own way anyway.”

“Sir…”

“I _don’t_ want to hear it! You will be sitting in a warehouse by the end of the day while the rest of us work to clean up your mess. Our little experiment with the Avengers is over, as is our little experiment with you.”

“Sir, please. Let me fix this.”

Fury leaned in closely, pressing his fists against the table and locking his good eye firmly on one of Coulson’s. “What did I just say?”

Phil couldn’t help but swallow dryly. Maybe Clint wasn’t the only one who needed to prove himself.

“I can fix this, sir. Please just trust me.”

Fury watched Coulson for another few seconds before standing. “I already made that mistake.”

He took one look at Hill and then left the room. Phil turned to look at her as well. She’d crossed her arms across her chest and looked pretty pissed off. Phil wondered at whom.

“Stand up,” she said to him. He complied and his cuffs fell away at her control. “Turn around.”

He turned around and held his hands behind his back. “Maria,” he said. “I _can_ fix this.”

“Can’t see how, Phil. You’ve made a real mess of things. All you had to do was keep your mouth shut. That didn’t used to be a problem for you,” she said as she approached and re-cuffed him.

Then he felt her slip something very light and slim into his pocket. It felt cold against his thigh and the sensation briefly filled him with hope. Maybe she still trusted him on some level. Maybe she was giving him something to get out of this situation.

He started to think about his options when he felt the sharp pain of an auto injector in his neck. He started falling towards the floor, but mercifully, was unconscious before he hit it.

***

He woke up in a crate.

As he struggled to regain full consciousness, he started to realize Fury had made good on his threat in the most literal and degrading way possible; he’d been boxed up into a wooden crate and was being shipped somewhere. The cracks between planks were too small for him to look out, but from the sound and the way the crate was rattling, he could tell he was in a truck that was moving at great speed.

Thank God for small favors.

A quick dislocation later and Phil was out of the cuffs. He reached into his pocket to see what Maria had slipped him; it was his pocket knife that she must have stolen from his locker. With Captain America’s shield emblazed on the handle, he’d carried it from childhood right up until he’d started working with Steve Rogers.  He’d been just a bit too embarrassed to carry it openly after that point, but seeing it now made him smile. It was a pretty clear message from Maria; she still believed in him. She was looking out for him even now and maybe, just maybe, that meant she’d keep an eye on Clint as well.

He began methodically searching the crate, looking for weak points. Then, he decided to assess his outer surroundings. He leaned heavily against the crate’s side, hard enough to start to tip it. He received a sharp bang in return as someone on the outside kicked the crate back into position. He pushed again, in a different direction this time.

“Knock it off!” came a sharp reply from the opposite side. Two guards, then. The crate was suddenly shoved forward until it came to a heavy stop. When he tried to push back again, he could feel the reassuring weight of the truck’s inner walls against his back and left side. Clearly, the truck was empty of other cargo and they had repositioned his crate into the truck’s corner. Phil heard them shuffle back to their seats. 

He shook his head slightly. Amateurs.

He knew he could free himself and fairly easily, too. Perhaps it was more of Hill’s doing – she’d certainly had other options for more secure transport. So the question wasn’t really if he could run, but rather, if he _should_ … and if so, to where and for how long. Once he opened the crate and took off, he’d be a fugitive from S.H.I.E.L.D. and that was not a life anyone would envy. Plus, he’d have no way of helping Clint. He may never even be able to see him again.

But then again, it wasn’t like he’d be able to do anything while stored in a warehouse, either. His only real chance to salvage this mess was to run and take his chances, even if those chances were remarkably poor for one man against an entire organization.

Maria was giving him a chance and he couldn’t ignore that. She was no bleeding heart; there was strategy involved in everything she did. She wanted him to run. Perhaps she was counting on him. If something was truly wrong at S.H.I.E.L.D., maybe she needed someone on the outside to make a play.

She trusted him, so he would trust her in return. He looked down again at the pocket knife and formed a plan. He worked one of the blades between the lid and front panel of the crate to create some pressure and then braced his feet against the back panel. He pulled down on the blade while he pushed his back against the front. With a sudden crack, the wood broke where the knife had weakened it. He pushed out with all his strength and rolled backwards into the open cargo hold as the panel gave way.

The two guards rose but Phil was already moving towards them. He swept the legs out from under one before rising quickly. A sharp backhand broke the second guard’s nose. While he reached for it, Phil threw a punch downward at the first guard, who was struggling to get up. He fell back unconscious and Phil stripped him of his rifle. He swung it back at the other guard, who fell heavily next to his colleague.

Phil collected the guard’s weapons and tossed them into the crate before retrieving his knife. If he was going to run from S.H.I.E.L.D., he wasn’t going to take anything of theirs with him. He removed his watch and tie and tossed them into the crate as well; they’d been standard issue and he knew they could be used to track him. Then he used his knife to cut out the small tracking tag embedded in his wrist.

With the truck still moving, he opened the back door and slipped out onto the bumper. He casually shut the door behind him and picked his moment. Then he jumped and rolled and disappeared into the woods lining the road.

***

Phil climbed a rise and got a sense of where he was. As best as he could figure, he was in the middle of nowhere.

Heavily wooded hills spread out as far as he could see, with roads and small streams spreading out across a valley floor. He spotted signs of a town in the distance and made his way towards it. He figured once he knew where he was, he’d steal a car and get on his way towards… somewhere else. In the meantime, the hike would give him time to think and plan.

He found a convenience store on the outskirt and popped in. He poured some coffee to warm up and checked the local newspapers to find that he was in upper New York State. Perhaps they’d been shipping him towards the old S.H.I.E.L.D. storage facility on Kirkland Air Base, which meant…

Phil closed his eyes and again thanked Maria as he realized what she’d done. She’d likely known as well as Phil that if he was to do any good on the outside then he would need more help than a pocket knife and in her own way, she’d given him all the help he could ever need. Of all the storage facilities they could have moved him to, she’d selected the one that would drop him here; in the Cap’s backyard.

Phil breathed a little sigh of relief. He knew the Cap wouldn’t be glad to see him, but even knowing that wasn’t enough to crush the hope that started to build within him. If Phil could convince him to help, then at least he wouldn’t have to do this all alone. Maybe they’d be able to pull off the impossible and not only save the Avengers, but S.H.I.E.L.D. as well.

Phil paid for his coffee and moved outside. He found a late model sedan on a side road and got it started easily. Then he set a course and went off to find his hero.

***

After Phil woke up in Stark Tower following the battle of New York, he’d spent several months reconnecting with his Avengers. Most of them had stayed nearby making it that much easier, but the Cap had disappeared into the middle of nowhere. As badly as Phil had wanted to reconnect with him and try to keep the Avengers together, he hadn’t pursued. As he came to learn, that had been the arrangement Cap had made with the other Avengers and Phil had agreed to honor it.

From all appearances, Steve Rogers had played the part of the good soldier and had tried gamely to adapt to his new situation. He’d taken up residence in Stark Tower and had approached it with as much excitement as he had with any other billet the Army had given him. Pepper had set him up with a simple apartment devoid of unnecessary technology and he’d repaid the kindness by at least trying to tolerate Stark with good humor.

But as the days and weeks passed, it became clear to everyone that he was just ‘soldiering on.’ He’d wandered New York as if it were a foreign city unable to find any place where he belonged. He was out of place and time and nothing seemed to remove that burden from him. He grew more and more reserved until finally even Tony took notice.

It had taken some coaxing, but Tony had finally gotten Cap to tour his classic cars. They’d wandered through the garages with Tony naming each make and model, but it wasn’t until they came upon the 1935 BMW motorcycle that Cap showed any interest. As he explained, he’d spent time as a kid working in his uncle’s garage, but never on such a magnificent machine. He was just a neighborhood kid; bikes like these weren’t meant for people like him. But seeing it there like a museum piece, it had seemed just as out of place as he felt.

He spent hours with Tony, talking over every detail and breaking it down to tinker. He was so energized by it that Tony gave it to him and then, a week later, gave him his own garage in the middle of nowhere. Tony had told him to go and to not look back – to find his place in the world and be his own man again. As pissed as Fury had been when he found out, the other Avengers had made sure Steve’s peace would be preserved; they’d all agreed he’d earned it.

So when Phil rolled up on the small garage in the middle of nowhere, NY, he didn’t anticipate a hearty welcome.

The garage was clean and neatly organized with rows of tools hanging along the walls. A few vintage motorcycles were parked along the side, each with a little tag hanging from a handlebar. Steve was in the center, reattaching the light to a beautiful, old Indian Chief. He looked up at Phil and after a second, set down his tools. He wiped his hands on the rag hanging from his pocket and stepped out to meet him.

“Agent Coulson. You look well, for a dead man,” he said as Phil got out of the car.

“Thank you, sir” Phil replied. He couldn’t think what else to say. They shook hands. “I see you’ve started your own business.”

“Yes. It turns out a lot of mechanics nowadays don’t know what to do with the older models. If it doesn’t come with fancy technology, they think it’s as good as scrap.”

“Not everyone,” Phil said.

“True. There are some folks out there who see value in keeping the antiques running.” They shared a look for a moment before Steve turned his eyes on the car. “I can’t imagine you came all this way because of car trouble.”

 “No, sir. I did not.”

Steve nodded. “And I thought S.H.I.E.L.D. agents tended to drive those big, black trucks.”

“Well, I’m no longer an agent, sir,” Phil replied. “I had to use what I could find.”

Steve nodded again and started walking towards the house up the drive. “Well, I guess you better come and sit down, then.”

Phil followed him inside. It was a simple and modest home. The appliances were modern and there was a small TV in the living room, but these seemed to be the only concessions to the modern era. It was a perfectly ordinary home and only the brightly colored shield propped against the coat rack gave away that Steve was anything but a perfectly ordinary man.

“You know, I paid my respects to you after New York,” Steve said before filling a kettle with water and placing it on a burner. He pulled two mugs from a cabinet and dropped a teabag in each. “I stood next to Director Fury when they buried you. I never got the chance to do the same for my men. It was nice to see how S.H.I.E.L.D. honored its fallen.” Steve turned to face him. “Just tell me one thing; was it an empty grave we saluted or are you just back somehow?”

“The latter,” Phil replied.

Steve nodded at first, but the nod turned into a shake. “You people really are amazing. Not even Heaven is good enough for you.”

“It wasn’t my choice, sir.”

“You can stop calling me ‘sir.’ I’m not the Captain and I’m not your old man.”

Phil waited for the kettle to boil and the tea to be poured before continuing. He knew it wouldn’t be long before S.H.I.E.L.D. started looking for him and not much longer after that before someone thought to check here, but this didn’t seem like a conversation that could be rushed.

“So, Mr. Coulson, you said you weren’t an agent anymore. Was that by choice?”

“No, sir… Steve… I suspect S.H.I.E.L.D. will turn up here looking for me sooner or later.”

“What did you do?”

“I disobeyed orders not to reveal… how it is that I’m back. It involves Stark.”

“And whatever happened at Stark Tower yesterday?” Steve replied. “It was all over the news, son,” he added after Phil’s quizzical look.

“Oh, then yes,” Phil replied back. He gave Steve a rundown of events, keeping things brief and to the point. He knew how to speak to a fellow soldier. He laid out his concerns and asked for help. Steve listened quietly and sipped his tea.

“How exactly do you think I can help you?”

“Honestly? I’m not really sure. I don’t know who we’re fighting or why, but I know the Avengers are out of commission and my gut is telling me something is wrong at S.H.I.E.L.D. I can’t let that go. I need to find out what it is and I need to stop it, somehow.”

“But that’s not all there is to do, is there? Stark and Banner need to be located.”

“Yes.”

“And your man needs to be rescued.”

Phil blushed just slightly at the phrasing, but said “yes.”

“And Loki stopped. With just the two of us and none of your fancy technology.”

“Yes. If you’ll help me.”

Steve watched him for a long moment. “If you’ll answer me one question,” he said finally.

“Alright.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Phil asked back. “Why do I want your help?”

“Why do you want to do this at all? Aside from Barton, what does any of the rest of it matter to you? You’re skilled. You can hide. You can be your own man and live your own life if you want to. So, why do you care about the Avengers? Why do you care if something is wrong at S.H.I.E.L.D.? Why is it so important that _you_ fix it? And who is to say that you’d be right to do so?”

 Phil didn’t even have to think about his answer. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

“Says you. But it seems to me you’re doing exactly what you accused Stark of doing – fixing problems without asking questions first.”

It was a fair point. Phil was used to being the man in charge. He was used to seeing the problems, developing the plans, and having everyone follow accordingly and unquestioningly. In that way, he didn’t operate all that much differently than Tony.

“Tell me about Barton. Will they torture him?” Steve continued.

“Not physically, but they’ll do what they need to be sure Loki’s not there. They’ll probably mess with his head quite a bit.” Phil struggled to say the last part smoothly. He didn’t want to betray to Steve just how worried he was about Clint. He knew well what state of mind those head games would leave him in. Phil had seen it too often before. Hell, he’d taken part in those games before. He knew that some folks never fully recovered from them.

“How is that not torture?” Steve asked seeming to echo Phil’s thoughts.

Phil looked down at his feet and tried to reign in his fears. He’d made a promise when he’d started dating Clint not to let his emotions compromise operations. That promise was being sorely tested.

“He’ll be alright. He’ll need help when he gets out, but at least I know they won’t kill him.”

“So rescuing him is not your first priority?”

“No. As I said, I know S.H.I.E.L.D. won’t kill him. I can’t say the same for Banner.”

“You’re making an operational decision rather than an emotional one?”

“Of course.”

“Well that also sounds like Stark talking, removing empathy from the equation.”

Phil hesitated before answering. “I have to look at the big picture, Steve.”

“But you’ll never forgive yourself if you just leave him, will you?” Steve set down his mug down and leaned in towards Phil. “Have you ever been tortured, Mr. Coulson?”

Phil nodded after a moment’s hesitation. A series of incredibly unpleasant memories popped into his mind. He clenched his jaw and kept his eyes firmly locked on Steve, trying to keep focus and fight back the images.

“Would knowing that they weren’t likely to kill you have eased your mind during that time?”

“No,” Phil said quietly as nearly uncontrollable emotions began to well up. Fear, worry, pain, hate, betrayal, hopelessness… he felt them all as both memories and projected worries about Clint.

“So tell me why you’re punishing him.”

“What? I’m not…”

“So, deciding to leave him to be tortured has nothing to do with the fact that he didn’t trust you… and that hurt? You’re not punishing him; you’re just looking at ‘the big picture?’”

Phil didn’t know what to say. He’d tried very hard to compartmentalize his worry about Clint and focus on the big issues: Loki, Stark, Banner, S.H.I.E.L.D. – those things that were big, loud, obvious problems. He’d convinced himself they had to be his priorities because they were so big and so potentially destructive.

But was Clint really any less of a priority than them? Or was it possible Phil had been so hurt by Clint’s lack of faith that he was actually punishing him by not prioritizing him – making him take the pain he’d brought on himself by not trusting Phil to help? Could Phil be that spiteful?

‘No,’ Phil thought to himself. It was true that Clint’s lack of faith hurt worse than Tony’s soldering iron, but he wasn’t punishing him for it. He knew Clint too well; he knew Clint would have had some reason or other to make the choice that he did.

                _Phil,_

_Please just trust me._

That was what the note had said. That was what Phil was going to do. Even it hurt. Even if it hurt Clint.

“I’m trying to maintain my objectivity, Steve.”

“Ah…” Steve said, leaning back. “Well there’s your problem right there. You can’t be objective with something like this and maybe you shouldn’t be. I can appreciate separating emotions from operations and that sometimes the best tactical decision is to leave your men to die, but I’ve never particularly subscribed to that philosophy. We’re not machines, Mr. Coulson. Sometimes we have to make a human decision because it’s the right thing to do. Sometimes we have to lose our objectivity.”

“But he’s not in enemy hands, Steve. He’s at S.H.I.E.L.D. If I go in there and get him out, it will only make things worse. We’ll both be fugitives.”

Steve got up and washed his mug in the sink. “Maybe. Don’t think about your training. Tell me what your gut is saying. What’s the right thing to do? Go after Banner or rescue Barton?”

Suddenly, all of Phil’s inner alarm bells went. ‘Go after Banner or rescue Barton?’ He’d been given that choice once before…

Phil sat back in his chair just a little bit. “Can I ask you something first?” he asked.

Steve smiled and opened his hands wide in a ‘go ahead’ gesture.

“Where is Steve Rogers?”

Steve set his mug in the basin and turned to look at Phil with a broad smile. “Last I saw? Test riding one of his motorcycles.”

“Loki.”

Steve bowed with a flourish and then changed into Loki’s more familiar form. “At your service, Sugar Lips.”

“I told you I’d call for you when I was ready for your debt to be repaid.”

“Who said anything about a debt? Did you hear the word ‘debt’ ever escape my lips? I was simply curious who you were more interested in pursuing – the man of your dreams or the creature of your nightmares?”

“I don’t know what your game is here, Loki. I don’t know what you’re getting out of all of this.”

“I’m keeping a promise.”

“To whom?”

Loki raised his eyes in mock surprise. “Why… to _you_ , Sugar Lips.” The smile fell from his face and he leaned down to get within inches of Phil’s. “I promised you your world would fall. Have I done anything less than fulfill that?”

With lightening quick reflexes, Phil slammed the tea mug up into Loki’s head. Loki fell back and away from him and Phil pounced, throwing a quick punch to the same spot before launching a tremendous kick into Loki’s gut. The god disappeared and reappeared behind Phil, but Phil had long ago learned that lesson. He’d already sent an elbow strike flying backwards. It met Loki’s chest before Phil could even look back.

Loki doubled over. God-like being or not, even he had difficulty breathing with broken ribs. Phil used the moment to run towards the door. He picked Cap’s shield from the coat rack and spun around just in time for a thrown dagger to ricochet off the metal and embed in the doorframe. Loki sneered and slowly rose from his knees on the kitchen floor. A sound outside the house caught his attention. He turned to it, then back to Phil with a smile.

“There will come a time when I am free to kill you,” he said.

“I feel the same way about you,” Phil replied.

“Have fun, Sugar Lips,” Loki said before disappearing. A second later, an agent’s face appeared in the kitchen doorway. S.H.I.E.L.D. had moved a lot quicker in getting there than Phil had hoped. Before Phil could say anything, the agent fired two shots at him. He raised the shield to deflect them.

“Hey!” he said, more out of surprise than anything else. Had his actions really warranted a ‘shoot on sight’ order? Phil heard the rest of the team moving outside and decided he didn’t have time to wonder.

He pulled Loki’s dagger from the door frame and moved out the door, only to be driven back by two agents with automatic rifles. They fired in unison and Phil immediately dropped into a crouch, protecting himself behind the shield. Bullets clanged off in all directions and he knew the force of impact alone was going to be enough to push him off balance.

He changed the shield’s angle just slightly to send some of the ricochets back towards the agents. They moved for cover and so did he, moving in a low crouch back inside. The first agent had moved into the kitchen and fired at his side as he appeared. Phil swung the shield around as much as he could risk and then dove for the open bedroom door. He slammed the door shut but bullets poured through and clanged off the shield as if the door had been paper. He reached out and pulled down the dresser to block the door and give him a little more shielding.

He checked the window and saw the two agents had moved around and were getting into position. He had just enough time to hit the floor and pull the shield over his head and torso before they opened fire. Hundreds of rounds poured in at him, shattering the furniture and ricocheting off the shield with such intensity, he could feel heat from the friction beginning to build.

They paused to reload and Phil shimmied along the floor towards the back of the room. He had to change his situation or he was a dead man. This was clearly no longer even a ‘shoot on sight’ situation; the men were there to obliterate him.

He surveyed the weapons available; he had Loki’s dagger, his pocket knife, and, looking around the Spartan bedroom… not much else. Still, he’d worked with less before. If they wouldn’t take him alive, at least he’d put up a good fight. He looked up at the window and started judging his chances of breaking through. Perhaps he could catch them on the back foot and use the shield and make it to the woods.

Phil tightened his grip on the shield and dagger. He stood up and readied himself to jump when he heard an agent shout at something. There was gunfire and then more shouting. A few more shots rang out from inside the house and then a dull force hit the bedroom door. Then silence.

Phil heard something be dragged away from the door and then someone try the knob. A moment later, there came a heavy kick which knocked the dresser partially back. A second kick broke the door from its hinges and pushed the dresser deep into the room. Phil readied the shield with a fighting stance to face whoever was coming inside.

Steve Rogers poked his head through the doorway and looked at Phil. He raised his eyebrow with a little bit of surprise.

“You alright, agent?” he asked.

“Fine, sir,’ Phil replied with incredible relief.

“You want to tell me what you’re doing in my bedroom?”

Phil felt the blush rise in him before he could do anything about it. “Just getting your shield for you, sir,” Phil replied, handing it over with as little apparent embarrassment as he could muster.

Steve smiled and took it from him, surveying the damage to his room.

“You know, I left it by the front door…”

Phil looked over the damage as well and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sorry, sir. I’ll be more careful next time.”

Steve raised his other eyebrow and Phil realized what he’d said.

“Not that there will be a next time that I’m in your bedroom, sir… I didn’t mean… to imply…”

Steve turned and started walking back through the house, mercifully cutting off Phil’s stammering reply. Phil closed his eyes and took a breath. He was an old special ops and S.H.I.E.L.D. veteran. He’d stared down terrorists and gods alike. Why was he always so flustered by this man? Clint was going to make such fun of him…

He took a breath and walked out to join Steve. The unconscious body of an agent lay in the living room where Steve had pulled him off the door. The other two lay on the porch.

“I don’t think they were really expecting me, which is somewhat odd considering it was my house they were destroying,” Steve said to him.

Phil leaned down and looked more closely at one of the agents. He didn’t recognize him. S.H.I.E.L.D. was big enough that Phil didn’t expect to know every agent, but he was sure to know everyone in his division. These young agents must have been brought in from somewhere else.

Phil’s eyes were drawn to a mark just below the young man’s ear. At first, he thought it was an oddly placed tattoo, but looking more closely, he could see it was metal. It was as if the young man had been branded and metal poured into the small scar. He pulled his phone and took a photo of it.

“Do you ride, Mr. Coulson?” Steve asked him, breaking his thought.

“Of course, sir.”

“Good. Go pick a bike. I can appreciate you wanting to investigate, but we need to move. They’ll be up soon and I don’t want them following us,” Steve replied, climbing on an old, black Triumph. Phil went into the garage and started a Norton Dominator. He pulled it up alongside.

“Are you ready?” Steve asked.

“Where are we going, sir?”

“My garage. Follow me.”

Phil nodded once and Steve pulled away. “Yes, sir,” Phil said, barely containing a smile.

Despite everything that had happened that day and despite nearly being killed by his own agency, Phil was still riding off towards adventure on a classic motorcycle with Captain America.

‘Follow me,’ he’d said, as if Phil were his sidekick. It was his boyhood dream come true. He pushed everything aside for just a few miles and allowed himself to enjoy this one moment. If only his ten year old self could see it… 

If only Clint could.

***

He followed Steve along country roads and noted as fields slowly gave way to houses and yards. Soon, a hand painted sign announced their entry into ‘Pottsville, population 317’. They rode down the main street, past simple, ordinary store fronts, until they reached a small gas station and garage. Steve pulled off the road and walked his motorcycle into one of the garage’s bays. He placed it on a lift and motioned for Phil to do the same.

“This isn’t an ordinary town, is it?” Phil asked Steve.

“What makes you ask that?”

“It’s too… ordinary.”

Steve smiled. “It’s perfectly ordinary, Mr. Coulson.” Then he pressed the lift controls and the two of them descended downward.

The lift stopped some ten feet below and metal grates snapped shut above them. Steve leaned heavily against the concrete wall and it pushed away on hidden hinges. He rolled his bike forward into a concrete corridor and Phil did the same. Phil stopped to shut the door and found he couldn’t budge it. He readjusted his stance and put his full weight into it, barely moving it an inch. Steve walked back and put his hands on it, easily sliding it back into position. Phil looked at him.

“I… would have had that. I just needed to get a better angle,” Phil said.

“Sure,” Steve said, nodding.

“I’ve been working out… since rehab. I would have… I would have had that.”

Steve nodded again and continued back down the corridor. “I’m sure you would have.”

Phil grimaced as he followed. “I _have_ been working out…” he said to himself before following.

The corridor eventually ended in another concrete door. Steve opened it and ushered Phil inside, shutting the door behind them before Phil could even think about trying. The room they entered was large and as technologically equipped as any of Stark’s labs. Large monitors hung on the walls, terminals and workbenches were spread throughout. Steve parked his bike along the wall and moved towards a central panel.

“So… when you said your ‘garage,’ you meant…”

“Command center,” Steve replied. He tapped on the keyboard. “I’ve got him,” he said into a microphone somewhere on the panel.

“On my way,” came Pepper’s voice.

It was startling to hear her voice. Phil looked to Steve, but he had sat down and was studying one of the monitors. A moment later, a door opened and Pepper walked in. She looked exhausted, but resolute.

“Phil,” she said, walking towards him.

“Miss Potts. Are you alright? Tony, Bruce?”

Her lips thinned at the mention of their names. “Come see for yourself.”

She led him down a hallway to a large medical bay. Bruce sat asleep in a chair in the corner. He was hooked to several tubes and monitors, but didn’t look all the worse for wear. Tony, however, was lying unconscious on a bed. He had a breathing tube in his throat and blankets wrapped all around him.

“Bruce will be fine, he just needs time to work everything out of his system. Tony though…” Pepper trailed off and moved over towards his side. She touched Tony’s hand gently. “Jarvis is keeping an eye on him. He’s stable, but that’s all I can say at the moment.”

Phil recognized the lack of emotion in her voice. She was holding herself in control, managing her worry. Phil came over and stood next to her. He looked down at Tony, who looked small and pale.

It wasn’t something Phil had ever expected to see. As jaded to the notion of superpowers and heroics as Phil had become, Tony had always seemed larger than life to him. He had seemed invincible, like no problem was above him.  Tony should be able to do anything, even heal himself. It was impossible for him to be lying there like that.

And Phil suddenly got it - why Tony had done what he’d done to him. Standing there, looking at Tony’s fragile humanity, he knew that if it was within his ability to save him, he would; whatever that meant and however it could be done. If he could rebuild Tony’s shattered body, he would.

“There’s something you should see, Phil,” Pepper said after a moment.

She led him back to where Steve was watching the monitors. He moved aside for her and she pulled up video from the lab in Stark Tower. Phil watched the feed closely. In it, he was talking to Bruce, trying to calm him down. Bruce reached for the auto injector and then the flash-bang grenades went off. Fury and his team stormed the lab. The agents immediately reacted to the Hulk with the exception of one man. That man stepped to the side and fired directly at Tony. Pepper paused the feed.

“It wasn’t an accident, Phil. Tony was the target.”

It couldn’t be… but somehow it was. There was no other explanation. The agent had shot Tony on sight, just as the other agents had done to him at Steve’s house. The only reason Tony was alive was because he’d put on his bracelets and begun calling his armor to him.

 _“Do you know where Miss Potts is likely to have hidden him?”_ Fury had asked him in interrogation. At the time, Phil had thought he’d meant Bruce, but now, Phil wondered if he’d meant Tony.

“Why would they target Tony?” Phil asked. “I mean, I know Fury was worried enough about my technology being stolen to put me in lockdown, but I didn’t think he was worried enough to treat Tony like a threat.”

“I don’t think this is about you, Mr. Coulson,” Steve chimed in.

“Sir, do you know about…” Phil started to ask, unsure how to do so.

“Yes, I know how you are back. Who do you think gave Stark the vibranium?”

Phil shook his head and kicked himself for doubting Tony. “I thought he’d stolen it from you.”

Steve smiled kindly. “Tony and I share a great deal more than you have been led to believe.”

“Like this command center?”

“Like the whole town. Everyone who lives here works for Tony,” Pepper answered.

Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place for Phil. _Pottsville_. Of course this was Tony’s town.

“I don’t think S.H.I.E.L.D. knew you were in my house,” Steve continued. “I believe they were already on the way there when you arrived. I think I was the original target.”

“Why would they target you two?” Phil asked.

Steve and Pepper shared a look. Pepper clenched her jaw and looked away. She seemed unwilling to meet Phil’s eyes.

“What exactly are you doing in this town?” Phil pressed.

Steve slowly pulled his eyes from Pepper and looked at Phil. “We’re investigating S.H.I.E.L.D.”

***

“We didn’t forget what happened in New York,” Steve began. “S.H.I.E.L.D. made some terrible calls. We saw no real reason to trust them as they started collecting Chitauri weapons from around the city. We decided to keep an eye on them.”

“We?” Phil asked.

“Me, Tony, and Pepper. Bruce opted out in the beginning; he didn’t think it would be great for his stress levels. We never hid anything from him, we just didn’t share. And as for Barton or Romanov, no offense intended, but Avengers of not, they’re still S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives. We didn’t know if we could trust them.

‘We found reasons to report to Fury and generally stick our noses in places they didn’t belong. It didn’t take long to realize Fury had, at best, a tentative control over the agency. His strings were being pulled by higher ups and tech was being shipped where even he didn’t know. Trying to track the pieces was how Tony found you.

‘He lost his focus after that. Everything seemed to be about fixing you. He was obsessed with the idea. I didn’t know you very well so I had to trust him that you were a priority. We agreed to split up. We made up a story, I came to Pottsville, and we’ve been following S.H.I.E.L.D.’s movements as best we can ever since.  Tony starting working with us again a little while ago. I think he caught S.H.I.E.L.D.’s attention and they got clued into the threat. They’re trying to shut us down.”

“Again, when you say ‘we’…?”

“The people in this town: scientists, hackers, mercenaries, a few mutants… Tony hired them for a variety of projects, but they’ve been focused on this one since I took command.”

“You’re the reason he’s in that bed, Phil,” Pepper said with a harshness he’d never heard. “Bringing you back was a slap in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s face. It made Tony a threat in their eyes. They started watching him and they watched him all the way back here. If he had just let you die…”

“Pepper…” Steve started,

“No, Steve. Tony never should have done it.” She turned to look at Phil. “It’s not even like you’re grateful to be back. He risked his life for you and you didn’t even trust him. Tell me you haven’t been thinking the worst about him. Tell me that.”

Phil didn’t know what to say. He hesitated and it was exactly the wrong response. She looked incredibly hurt and turned away. She walked quietly back and out of the room. He stared after her as she went, chiding himself for not knowing how to fix it.

“She’s not wrong, Mr. Coulson,” Steve said once she’d gone. “But I’ve learned to trust Tony. If he made you a priority, he had his reasons.” He gestured for Phil to come and sit next to him. Phil did so, finding it hard to drag his eyes back from the door Pepper had gone through.

“Can you tell me what’s so special about you?” Steve asked quietly but firmly. “Why did he need you to live?”

Eventually, Phil turned to look at him and shook his head. “I have no idea.”

“Well then, we need to figure that out. Or else he’s going to die in vain.”

***

As far as days went, Phil was having a hell of a one. He couldn’t remember a day starting so positively and ending quite like this.

He sat quietly at a work station in Steve’s command center. He had uploaded the photo of the agent’s metal tattoo in the hopes one of the scientists would recognize it. While waiting for answers, he started watching video feeds on multiple monitors. His eyes flicked from screen to screen, taking in images from S.H.I.E.L.D. facilities, Stark Tower, Pottsville and elsewhere. His mind, however, was not in any of them. He tapped aimlessly at the keyboard before getting up and walking back into the medical bay.

It was late and Pepper had fallen asleep on one of the empty beds. Bruce was still sleeping peacefully in the corner, looking as though he hadn’t moved an inch since Phil had last seen him. As quietly as he could, Phil picked up a chair and moved it next to Tony. The breathing tube had been removed, which Phil assumed was a good sign. He watched as the monitors beeped their quiet rhythms. They had an oddly calming effect on him that allowed him to sit and gather his thoughts.

He had been deeply impressed by what Tony and Steve had gathered in their database. They had collected more information than Phil would have thought possible. They had discovered the existence of numerous secret facilities, as well as the technology that was either created or protected within them. Most interesting, though, was that they had discovered a hierarchal structure that even Phil hadn’t known about.

He had known Fury reported to others as a mechanism for keeping S.H.I.E.L.D. accountable, but he had always assumed it was like an international court rather than a board of trustees. In reading through the files, Phil came to learn that three unidentified individuals sat directly above Fury and approved or disapproved every one of his decisions. They had the ability to replace him at any time and that ability was carried out by a lethal squad of agents who answered only to them. They were like the Sword of Damocles that hung above Fury’s head.

Phil couldn’t stop thinking about that. He knew Fury, almost better than anyone else. He just couldn’t believe he would ever have issued kill orders against Tony or Steve, no matter how upset he was. It made more sense that these enforcers were taking matters out of Fury’s hands. Such a thing would also explain the unknown persons who had watched his interrogation, as unaccountable super-agents would certainly have rattled Hill.

But if they were taking over, why wouldn’t Fury have come to him? New technology or no, Fury should have known Phil could be trusted to help. Instead, all Fury had been interested in was keeping Phil quiet or locked away. Phil thought back to his conversation with Fury in Xavier’s garden.

_“The last thing I need is some wannabe dissecting you and raising an army from your programming. The more people know what you are, the more likely that is.”_

What if Fury hadn’t been talking about some hypothetical threat, but a very real one from within the organization?

Phil thought about that for a long time; an army of sentient robotic agents. He could see it as a very real desire for an organization like S.H.I.E.L.D., but to what end? It wasn’t like Phil had gained super strength or a computer-like brain, or any other useful superpower. Tony hadn’t even designed him to be controllable. He was still just… him.

That thought stuck with him as he watched Tony’s chest slowly rise and fall. Tony could have built anything he wanted, but he had gone out of his way to rebuild Phil exactly as he had been before. He thought back over all the conversations they’d had since he woke up in the Tower. Phil knew in his gut there had been no ulterior motive behind Tony’s actions. Tony had lost a friend and in his grief, had found a way to save him.  Yet, all Phil had done in return was thanklessly treat him with suspicion. The guilt started to build in Phil. He was ashamed for ever having doubted Tony and prayed he’d get a chance to make it up to him.

“I’m so sorry, Tony,” he said quietly. “If there’s a way for me to fix this, I’ll find it.”

He sat for several long minutes, watching the monitors and trying to clear his head, but worries and frustrations kept invading his thoughts. The two men he cared most about in this world were in danger and beyond his help. He’d never felt so powerless.

He turned to look at Pepper. She was curled in a tight ball with fists pulled closely to her chest. Warding off the nightmares, Phil figured. He thought about what she’d said; about how Tony should have let him die. He knew she’d said it out of fear and grief, but he couldn’t shake the words or the sentiment. He understood her fear and didn’t blame her for blaming him.

Phil took a deep breath and got up to leave. Maybe it was time he got some rest himself.

“You’ll figure it out, Phil,” Bruce said quietly from the corner, surprising Phil.

“I hope so, Bruce, but I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

“Sure you do,” he replied, yawning.

Phil thought about that for a moment. A protest had been on the tip of his tongue, but then something clicked in his mind. He’d been kicking himself for being oblivious and missing all the signs that something was wrong at S.H.I.E.L.D., but he suddenly realized that he hadn’t been _completely_ oblivious after all. Even while recovering, he’d spotted that first clue – Clint’s missing time in Calgary. He’d followed his gut on that and questioned Clint. Things had just proceeded differently from that point than he’d imagined. He’d been… distracted from the problem, but his instincts had been right. Something had been wrong. It was as early a clue as he had to work with.

“Thanks,” he said, but didn’t get a reply. Bruce had drifted back to sleep. Phil quietly replaced his chair and went back to the command center.

“Steve?” he called out. Steve looked up at him. “You said you weren’t sure if you could trust Clint or Natasha. Does that mean you began monitoring them?”

“Not intensely, but yes,” Steve answered.

Phil reached for the keyboard and called up the database. He searched for Clint and found an astonishing number of records. ‘Not intensely?’ he thought to himself, wondering at just how much information would be available on those they had been watching more closely.

He poured through the records until he found one reporting on Clint’s movements in Calgary. The investigator hadn’t been able to keep up with him, but had found the aftermath: the man Clint had killed. There was a photo of the dead man, but no mention of a name.

“Do we know who this man is?”

“If it’s not in that file, then no. Clint wasn’t a primary target of our investigations, so we didn’t pursue. We figured it was one of your operations.”

Phil shook his head. “This is the man Loki wanted dead. We need to find out who he is.”

“Is that really a priority right now?”

“I think so. Everything started with Loki. This has been his game since the beginning and I can guarantee he never does anything without a reason. Whoever this man was, his death was the opening move.”

Steve nodded after a moment. “Alright, I’ll send the file to our people; see if anyone can find out who he was.”

Phil sat back and said a little prayer. He hoped this was a real lead and not a goose chase. He needed something to start going his way.

***

“Our hackers took this as a personal challenge, Mr. Coulson,” Steve said to him the next morning. “Once they got a hint of who he was, it was all they could talk about.”

“You know… you _can_ call me ‘Phil,’ sir,” Phil replied, just a little hesitantly.

“Will you stop calling me, ‘sir?’”

Phil shrugged. “Probably not, sir.”

“Then, ‘Mr. Coulson’ it is.”

Phil took the file he was handed. “So, who is he?”

“A ghost. Some kind of legend within the community. He has a lot of aliases, any one of which could be a real name, but no one is willing to guess which one. They’ve actually been calling him Thor.”

“A god of thunder?”

“Among the hackers, yes. From accounts, he was every bit the genius Mr. Stark is and had developed a specialty working with alien equipment. From what we gathered, he created several pieces S.H.I.E.L.D. had to confiscate and ship out to the Sand Box – hybridized technology based on pieces he’d stolen or acquired.”

“I wonder if he stole something from Loki.”

“Very possible,” Steve answered, nodding. “But what is known and perhaps more interesting is that his relationship with S.H.I.E.L.D. seemed to change a little after New York. He went from being a most wanted figure to suddenly not being wanted at all. From all appearances, it would look like they caught him.”

“Except that he was walking around Calgary like a free man. Do you think they turned him?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time an enemy was turned into an asset… and it got me thinking. That metal tattoo you found? It wasn’t all that different from markings on the Chitauri. The one you found was larger and shaped a little differently, but it was in the same place on the skull.”

Steve pulled up file images from the database showing close-ups of dead Chitauri warriors. Small metal implants were apparent under the ‘ears.’

“What if these are part of the neural connection that allowed them to operate?” Steve continued. “And… what if this ‘Thor’ was adapting the connections for humans?”

“Neurally connected agents?”

“The Chitauri were very effective in New York. It would stand to reason a group as powerful as S.H.I.E.L.D. would want to be just as effective. It would also explain the alien tech going missing.”

“Not Fury,” Phil said, shaking his head. “He’d wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“Maybe it wasn’t his call.”

That made a lot of sense to Phil. He knew Fury was a pragmatist and would always do what needed to be done to keep the world safe. If that meant acquiring and using alien technology, he would do so without hesitating.

But linking agents similarly to how the Chitauri did would mean removing their free will. Phil knew that was a line Fury would never cross. The potential for abuse would be too great, but more than that, it would mean destroying the very essence of S.H.I.E.L.D. itself. At its core, S.H.I.E.L.D. was a human organization that relied on agents to make personal calls in the field. It was that strength that allowed S.H.I.E.L.D. to face the greatest enemies the world had yet known. To lose that would be to lose everything. 

“Look, he had to know what was happening,” Steve continued, breaking Phil’s thoughts. “The agent who shot Tony was on his team.  And he had to have at least heard about the team that came after us. I’m not sure it matters whose idea it was, Fury was complicit.”

“Unless they’ve got something to control him.”

“Who are ‘they?’”

“The Triumvirate.”

“Who?”

Phil shook his head. “Sorry, it’s what I’ve been calling the three directors above him. What if they have something – something big they can use to control him?”

“Like what?”

Phil shook his head. “I have no idea, but knowing Fury, lives would have to be at stake.”

“Alright,” Steve said, sitting down to talk. “Let’s say you’re right. Let’s say this… Triumvirate… is keeping Fury in check and building a group of neurally linked agents. What does that have to do with us? Why come after Tony?”

Phil thought for a moment and something suddenly clicked. “Misunderstanding,” he said. “They’re operating in secret and they know Fury’s not fully on board with the plan. They catch wind that you and Tony are investigating them and then their main asset gets killed by an unknown assassin. If you were in their position, wouldn’t you assume Fury was behind it – that he sent someone like Clint or Natasha to take out Thor?”

“Perhaps, but Clint killed him months ago. If that were the case, wouldn’t they have moved against us then?”

More pieces of the puzzle started to click for Phil. “Maybe they weren’t sure or maybe Fury was protecting us… I don’t think it matters because something else was the trigger.”

“What?”

“Me. I told Clint what I was. Maybe they were listening and realized an Avenger had built a robot with Level 8 clearance – one Fury was protecting. And the next morning, his boyfriend - another Avenger - walks in and asks to be arrested? It’s like Fury said; they have to be thinking Trojan Horse, they have to be thinking there’s a plan. What would you do if you were them, sir?”

“Go on the offensive,” Steve said, nodding.

Phil nodded with him. “I’d take out the Avengers and Fury, too, but I’d be careful about how I did it. I wouldn’t want to make the other high level agents suspicious of a coup. I bet you Fury was never supposed to get out of Stark Tower alive, but then the Hulk threw their assassin through a wall. It changed the plan, but they ended up with two aces in the hole: Clint and Nat.”

“If that’s true, then they have a problem. They have to find a way to kill all three of them without upsetting the other agents. How do they solve it?”

Phil felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. “With Clint,” he said quietly as it all started to dawn on him.

“Clint? What do you mean?”

Phil could feel the blood drain out of his face. He was suddenly cold with the feeling of pins and needles all around. “They have an agent who thinks he’s possessed. No one will question if he goes berserk and tragically kills his partner and boss - and who knows how many other agents - while trying to ‘escape.’ They’ll put Clint down and blame it all on Loki. No one will look further into it.”

“But you said Loki isn’t controlling him. How would they…” Steve sat back in his chair and slowly shook his head with realization. “The neural link.”

Phil nodded in reply. “If I’m right, we don’t have a lot of time… assuming they haven’t killed them already.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

Phil considered Steve for a long moment. He thought over the events, Loki’s involvement, Maria’s assistance, and most of all, his years of friendship with Fury. He knew the man – not just how he operated, but his values as well. Fury’s vision and ideals were why Phil had joined S.H.I.E.L.D. They’d transformed the organization into what it was together and did so with a very clear understanding of what S.H.I.E.L.D. would and would not be. Phil knew as surely as he knew anything the lengths Fury would go to protect S.H.I.E.L.D. and its agents.

Then he thought back to his interrogation. Every question had been designed to showcase Phil’s ignorance. Phil suddenly realized it hadn’t been to demoralize him; Fury had been putting on a show for the witnesses. He’d been trying to protect Phil by proving he wasn’t involved in any conspiracy.

 _“What concerns me even more is that I apparently have senior agents who are completely oblivious to threats in their own backyard,”_ Fury had said. He hadn’t been chiding him, Phil realized, he’d been warning him. _“Thanks to you, I have a much bigger problem.”_

_“My hands are tied...”_

_“I warned you what would happen...”_

Fury was in trouble.

“I’m not wrong,” he said finally and with absolute confidence.

Steve looked him in the eye and seemed to consider him for a long moment. Then he nodded once and said “alright,” with just as much confidence as Phil had shown. “Tony stood by you, so I will as well. How do you want to do this?”

“We’ll have to get a message to Maria. S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ is too secure. We won’t get very far without her help. Do you think the hackers can get a secure message to her?”

“I’m sure they can. What do we tell her?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt gentlemen,” Bruce said from behind them. They both turned to watch as he slowly walked over to them. Phil forced himself to relax and sat very still as Bruce stopped in front of him. “Tony’s gone.”

***

Of all the ways Phil could have found to return to S.H.I.E.L.D., this was probably the last he would have chosen, but circumstances sometimes had a way of dictating actions. Steve and Bruce had tried to talk him out of it, but with Tony gone, Phil had seen no reason to even discuss anything else. It wasn’t that he wanted to do it this way, but that he saw no other real option. He hadn’t created this mess, but he wasn’t going to see it drag on any further. He wanted no more blood on his hands; he wanted this to end.

He drove his borrowed SUV up to the secure garage. He was waved in by two guards and parked where he was instructed. He took a deep breath and got out. A small squad of agents kept their weapons trained on him as he slowly walked with raised arms to the back of the vehicle. He opened the doors, revealing a prone, motionless Iron Man.

One of the agents moved to grab the body, but Phil waved him off. “I’ve got him,” he said.

“Move aside,” the agent replied brusquely. The agent pushed Phil against the SUV’s door and grabbed at the body. Phil snapped and lashed out, dropping the agent with a backhand to the throat.

“Don’t touch him!” he shouted as he spun around ready to face the entire quad. Weapons snapped up in unison and the squad took aggressive steps forward.

“Stand down!” Maria shouted from where she was standing near the elevators. She walked quickly towards the squad.

“Ma’am, we need to secure…”

“I said ‘stand down,’” she replied in a tone that implied the agent had no room for further discussion. She walked up to Phil. “I know what he meant to you, Phil. I’ll take him and no one will touch him without my order, alright? But you’re going in in cuffs or not all.”

Phil looked from her to the agents and back again to her. He nodded and the lead agent moved to cuff him. He was roughly moved towards the elevators as Maria reached into the SUV. The suit responded to the touch by firing small repulsors that allowed it to hover and easily slide at her direction. She took it and followed the rest of the squad into the cargo elevator. They rode down a dozen floors. He was moved to an interrogation room and once again secured to the table. After a few moments of solitude, he looked up at the multi-use port and smiled. He knew who was watching.

He only had to wait another minute or so before he was joined by two men. One was a young agent with a neural link; the other was an older man in an expensive suit. The younger man moved to stand under the multi-use port while the older man came and sat across from Phil. He looked bored and dismissive, as overly confidant men in power often do.

“Mr. Coulson,” he began.

“ _Agent_ Coulson,” Phil replied.

The older man smiled. “Yes… I understand you like to play these sorts of games, but the simple fact is that you are no longer an agent. You lost that title – along with your life – on the helicarrier. That Fury allowed you to play pretend does not change that. Nor does bringing in a wanted fugitive. You are still to be shut down.”

 “I didn’t come to beg for my life.”

“Good, because as I understand it, you don’t actually have one.”

Phil smiled at the cute exchange. He hoped it could convey his disdain.

“So why don’t you tell me why you came here, Mr. Coulson.”

“To meet you, sir.”

“Me? Do you even know who I am?”

“One of the directors who sent assassins against heroes. By my definitions, I know exactly who you are.”

The man smiled and sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, if I’m such the villain, why did you bring me Iron Man? Why aren’t you out venerating him?”

Phil leaned in and folded his hands neatly over the cuffs.

“I am, sir. Pepper Potts and Steve Rogers are fugitives; they can hardly bury him in a manner appropriate for someone who has given us so much, so I want him here. I want the world to _know_ he’s here; the world he’s saved again and again. I’ve sent the footage of your attack on Stark Tower to news agencies around the world. I want journalists and politicians and school children everywhere asking why you killed him – killed the man who saved them from _you._ I want _them_ asking who you are and who decided you had the power to decide which lives were important and which were just collateral damage. Because that was your decision, wasn’t it? When the Chitauri invaded, you decided Manhattan was acceptable collateral damage.”

“That’s right, Mr. Coulson. I did make that decision. You know why? Because that’s my job. I make the hard calls you can’t stomach. You’re what? S.H.I.E.L.D.’s ‘welcome wagon’ for new assets? Its babysitter? You find the freaks and hold their hands. You tell them all the lies we tell children – that everything will be ok, that good will always defeat evil, that any soul can be redeemed... It’s touching to hear, Mr. Coulson. It’s nice to believe in heroes and that somehow ideology will save the world, but that’s just not reality. What saves the world are hard calls, not your action figures.”

Phil smiled. “You’re right. I do collect action figures… and I unite them into teams. I show them how strong they can be together. And you know what usually happens when I do that?”  

“What’s that?”

“They start to believe in that strength and they start to ask themselves not only what they can do together, but what they would do for each other. Tony Stark has a lot of friends, you know.”

“Had. He _had_ a lot of friends.”

“No, sir. Has.”

The director’s eyes flicked uncertainly to the agent, then back to Phil. “Explain yourself.”

“Well, sir. I may have given you the wrong impression. I’m not actually here to meet you; I’m here to arrest you.”

A more ignorant man might have laughed at such a statement, but the director sat stone-still. Clearly, he knew Phil’s reputation. “Agent?” he asked, looking at the neurally-linked man in the corner.  The young man struggled to move forward, as if struggling to gain control of his own body. The director looked back at Phil.

“What have you done to him?”

“Me?” Phil asked in reply. “Nothing. My hackers, on the other hand, are slowly gaining control of your neural network. And I apologize that I lied to you earlier, sir, but I needed to buy them some time. Tony Stark is not dead. I don’t know where he is… but he was alive the last time I saw him.”

The Director moved quickly to get up, but Phil was quicker. He’d already dislocated his thumbs and freed himself from the cuffs; he reached out and slapped them onto the director in a smooth motion, pinning the man back down to the securing bolts on the table.

“The suit…” he said. “It was empty. You used it to access the network.”

 “Actually, no. Hill got us into the network and…”

Phil was interrupted by a distant, but incredibly loud roar that rumbled the floor with its vibration. Phil smiled calmly at the director. “The suit wasn’t empty.”

The door opened and Hill appeared. “Let’s go, Phil. Banner’s on the move.”

“You won’t succeed, agent,” the director said as he moved to join her.

“I’m not an agent anymore, sir. Remember?” he replied without looking back.

***

“Can’t say I’m in love with you unleashing the Hulk in my building, Phil,” Maria said as they ran down the corridor towards the chaos.

“I know, ma’am. I’m sorry, but he’s a hell of a distraction, isn’t he? He’ll bust his way into wherever they’re being held.”

“But will he stop when he gets there?”

Phil swallowed dryly. “Um… we actually didn’t discuss that part.”

Maria looked at him sideways.

“Where are they being held, ma’am?” Phil asked, changing the subject.

“Barton and Fury are on the floor below us. I tried to have Barton secured after I got your message, but they overrode it. They were moving him and Fury to Secure Medical with Romanov. I think you were right about their plans.”

They rounded a corner and faced a squad of neurally linked agents, all standing with their weapons raised. Hill drew her pistol but Phil reached out before she could fire.

“They’re not a threat ma’am. My people are gaining control of their network.”

She watched with a look of disgust as the agents struggled in place; their bodies reacting to competing commands. They looked almost frozen, but Phil knew every one of their muscles was straining. He hoped his hackers would gain full control quickly; he didn’t want to see these young agents get hurt from the strain.

They moved past the agents and into Secure Medical. It was a large facility with many private rooms and lab spaces.

“Where is Nat being…” Phil started before noticing the trail of bodies down the hall. “Nevermind. I found her.”

Phil slowly approached a room at the far end of the hall. He stepped over three unconscious bodies before poking his head into the lab space. Nat stood in the center of the room, dressed in an ill-fitting hospital gown. Her eyelids were half-closed and she looked slightly wobbly, as if still in a drug-induced stupor. She stepped over the unconscious bodies of two more agents and took a few steps towards Phil.

“They hurt Clint…” she said with heavily slurred speech. “I tried to stop them… don’t know why I’m so tired…”

“Banner drugged you, Nat, but you’ll be fine. You just need a little more rest.”

“Clint…”

“I’ll find him. Which way did they head?”

She shook her head and closed her eyes, the drugged exhaustion becoming too much for even her to fight. She stepped over to a supply cabinet and broke the lock. She pulled a long needle from the cabinet and stripped it from its case. Without hesitating, she plunged it into her chest. The pain and shock forced her to her knees. Her eyes opened wide and she took a large, sharp breath. She sat breathing heavily for a moment.

“Nat!” Phil shouted, moving to her. She pushed him aside and stood. She moved to a fallen agent, stripped a rifle from his hands, and started moving for the door. Phil looked at the needle and realized she’d given herself a massive dose of adrenaline.

“Nat!”

She turned and looked at him with calm, sober eyes. She lifted her chin, pointing it back across the hall to the room opposite them. “Fury was in there,” she said before moving up the hall. He followed her out of the room.

“Nat, where are you going?”

“I think the Big Guy is here. I’m going to go talk to him,” she called back over her shoulder. Her hospital gown flapped behind her as she moved up the hall, stripping weapons off bodies as she went.

Maria raised her eyebrows and watched her. “Should I feel sorry for the Hulk?” she asked. Phil shared her look – and concern – before turning back to the room she’d indicated.

They moved slowly into the darkened room. Bodies lay everywhere, strewn among tossed furniture and broken lights. Phil thought back to Bruce’s comments in the Tower. He’d said Nat would be out for days, but it would seem Nat had fought her way through two squads of agents after fewer than 48 hours. Her strength and determination never ceased to amaze him. Or terrify him.

He moved further into the room and started checking bodies. He found Fury laying unconscious and bleeding under a gurney along the far wall. Maria had already called for medical teams and they began to arrive as he kneeled beside Fury and applied pressure.

“Sir?”

Fury was startled by the sound. He snapped open his eye and reached out a weak arm to Phil, gripping his lapel.

“Coulson?” he asked through strangled breath.

“Yes, sir. Help is on the way.”

Fury shook his head weakly and Phil suddenly realized what Fury must have felt standing over him on the helicarrier.

“They’ll move against… the Academy, Phil… You have to get to them…”

So that what was the Triumvirate had held against him. “They’ll send the linked agents against the recruits? Why?”

“Link them all…” Fury said, with closed eye. “They’re just kids…”

“Stay with me, sir. Are they on the same network as the agents here?” Getting no answer, he got down in Fury’s face. “Sir? Sir?!” Fury took a surprised breath and opened his eye. He struggled to focus on Phil.

“Sir, are they on the same network?”

“I think so… I don’t know…”

Phil looked to Maria. “If they’re on the same network, they’re as frozen as the agents here. If not…”

“I’ll take care of it, Phil,” she said. “I’ll send teams and get a hold of Rogers, too; he might be able to reach them first. Just in case.”

Phil was gently pushed aside by a medical team moving in. He could see Fury was rapidly losing consciousness.

“Sir?” He didn’t get a reply. “Sir, where’s Clint? Sir?”

***

Clint Barton looked down at his hands and realized he wasn’t cuffed. He was sitting up in a hospital bed he couldn’t remember moving to. There was a searing pain on the side of his head that forced him to close his eyes and try to squeeze back the headache.

When he opened his eyes again, he could see Nat sitting up in a bed on the other side of the room. She looked tired, but was watching him with curious eyes.  A man in a white coat stood nearby, watching Clint. He held a tablet in his hand and after a moment, he tapped on it in an animated sequence that was oddly mesmerizing to watch...

Clint suddenly stood up. He hadn’t had a particular desire to do so, he’d just felt compelled to get up all of a sudden, like it was important somehow. The man continued to watch him intently. It felt unnerving, but at first, Clint couldn’t look away. Noise in the hallway caught his attention, though. He turned to watch as a squad of agents ushered a shackled Fury into the room. Clint noticed the agents all had tattoos on the side of their heads. He reached up and touched the side of his own head. He felt a nasty, raised scar that hurt to touch and also felt oddly cool, like metal.

 He looked back at the man in the white coat and saw the man was still watching intently, like he expected Clint to do something. Clint wanted to ask who he was and what was going on, but found he couldn’t speak; he couldn’t seem to do anything at all. He just stared at the man until suddenly; the only thing that seemed to matter was stopping Fury. Clint couldn’t explain _why_ it mattered, especially since Fury was cuffed and not much of a threat to anyone… but it seemed vitally important for some reason.

Clint moved quickly to him and landed a heavy punch to the gut that dropped Fury to his knees. He launched a knee up into Fury’s face that sent him sprawling backwards. Nat tried to move from her bed, but was pushed heavily back down. Clint wanted to go and help her, but he couldn’t shake the need to beat Fury. He kicked the Director repeatedly and savagely.

“Clint, stop!” he heard Nat shout. He looked back at the man in the white coat and saw he was still watching intently. He tapped again on his tablet and Clint’s headache suddenly flared and felt like burning. He squeezed his eyes shut against the pain and found he had only one thought left in his head: to kill Fury and Nat.

He lashed out and kicked Fury in the face, then grabbed him and pulled him to his feet. Clint threw him through one of the hospital beds. It slid backwards on its wheels from the force of impact and Fury slumped against it. He tried to stand but Clint was already moving at him. He grabbed Fury by the head and threw him into the nearby wall. It made a sickening sound, but Clint didn’t hesitate; he just grabbed Fury by the shirt and threw him back across the room. Fury flew through a gurney and crashed heavily into the wall.

Nat was suddenly up and moving. She dropped the closest two agents before Clint had registered her movement. The agents reacted to her and moved, but Clint didn’t stop to watch. He moved towards Fury, compelled to strangle the man and end it. He got his hands around Fury’s throat and squeezed. He watched as Fury struggled against his cuffs and injuries, trying to breathe. Clint easily held him down and watched as Fury’s eye slowly closed.

Clint was suddenly thrown to the side as an agent crashed into him. Clint looked up to see the unconscious man had been launched at him by Nat. They locked eyes for a moment before she turned to face the remaining agents. Clint looked back at Fury. He knew he wasn’t dead yet, but he was clearly not going to be a problem. Nat, however… He watched her launch another agent through the doorway and moved towards her. He didn’t want to kill her, but for some reason, he knew she had to die.

He shoved an agent through a bed and reached for her when his headache suddenly flared again. He stumbled back, thrown off balance by the pain. When he could open his eyes again, he looked up at the man in the white coat. He appeared to Clint to be watching something on the tablet, but Clint couldn’t hear any sounds other than those of Nat fighting behind him.

The man tapped something and the pain on the side of Clint’s head reached an almost unbearable intensity. He felt compelled to stand up. A series of images flooded his mind as if he was seeing through another person’s eyes and Clint suddenly understood that that was exactly what was happening - he was seeing what another agent was seeing as if they were somehow linked. That agent watched as an SUV pulled into the S.H.I.E.L.D. garage and Phil got out. Joy filled him as he realized his Phil was there, but that joy was just as suddenly gone. The pain flared again and Clint was filled with a need to kill Phil. It made no sense to him, but somehow, it was the only thing that made sense in his head. He _needed_ to kill Phil. He was compelled.

He stripped a pistol from an agent and moved out into the hallway, sidestepping agents as they fought an apparently losing battle against Nat. A second squad of agents was running towards the room as he entered the hallway. They stood aside and let him pass before charging in.

Clint moved to the elevators and got off on the main interrogation floor. He knew Phil had been moved into the priority room – he’d seen it happen through another agent’s eyes. He would move in quickly and kill Phil while he was still restrained. He knew Phil was alone in the room; it would be easy and quick.

He reached for the knob but Loki suddenly appeared and stood in front of him.

“Hello, Pet,” he said with a smile. Clint moved to push him aside and was unceremoniously thrown back against the wall. “Tsk, tsk. That’s no way to treat an old friend.”

“Step aside,” Clint said. “I need to get in there.”

“Why?”

“I need to kill Phil.” Clint started moving towards the door again, but Loki stood firm. He held out a hand to Clint’s chest and the power was enough to stop Clint from moving.

“Really?” Loki asked with mock surprise. “That seems harsh. Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

“No, but…” Searing pain filled Clint’s head again and he squeezed his eyes shut against it.

“Then why do it?”

He forced his eyes open. “I… I have to. I don’t have a choice.”

“Of course you have a choice, Pet,” Loki assured him.

Clint shook his head. “No, I don’t. I have to kill him.”

“Why is that?”

“I… I don’t know. I just have to.”

Loki chuckled. “No, Pet. I didn’t give you your will back just to see a silly man in an ugly white coat take it away again. Tell me; what do you _want_ to do?”

That was an easy question. “I want to find Phil.”

“To kill him?”

Clint shook his head at first and then nodded, the pressure in his head becoming excruciating. “I have to.”

“That’s not what I asked. What is he to you?” Loki asked.

The pain built even more and Clint felt something warm begin to drip from his nose; he knew it had to be blood. Words flashed through his mind ‘enemy,’ ‘terrorist,’ ‘threat.’ Clint knew the words were wrong, but they were the only ones he had.

Loki gently touched the painful scar on the side of his head. “Think again, Pet. What is he to you?”

 The pain disappeared suddenly and a single word flashed through his mind, clear as day: “Home.”

“Mmmm…” Loki said in agreement. “You’ve never had one of those, have you?”

With the pain gone, so went Clint’s strength. He was exhausted, feeling as though he’d fought a major battle… it was like every muscle had been straining for so long, they could no longer hold their own shape.

“No…” he replied. He dropped to his knees, unable to hold himself up. Loki knelt down in front of him and placed a gentle hand on his head.

“A home is a wonderful thing, Pet. Precious even. It’s usually something to fight for, not against.”

“I know… I don’t… I don’t know why I…”

“Shhh…” Loki said. He pulled Clint towards him and gently kissed the top of his head. “There, there, Pet. It’ll be alright.  Why don’t you go into one of these rooms and wait for him to come to you. I’ll tell him where you are. Won’t that be nice?”

Clint nodded sluggishly and struggled to get up. Neither his mind nor his body seemed able to fully comply. Loki helped him to stand and ushered him to a second interrogation room. He set Clint in the chair and stepped away.

“That’s right, Pet. Sit there and wait. You’ll go home soon.” Clint heard the door lock click into place and then Loki was gone.

***

Phil moved from room to room looking for Clint. He wasn’t among the unconscious agents, nor had he been involved with the unsuccessful attempt to corral the Hulk, as far as Phil could tell. The Big Guy had busted clear through the building and only Natasha had decided to pursue, Maria having recalled all other agents to help secure the facility and restore order.

Eventually, Phil turned a corner on a quiet hallway, far from the chaos. Loki stood waiting for him with a broad smile.

“Hello, Sugar Lips. Did you have fun?”

“Fun? So, this _was_ your game.”

“Of course!” Loki replied with a mocking, hurt look. “Who else would go to such lengths for you?”

“For me? How was any of this for me?”

Loki smiled again and slowly walked towards him. “Tell me, Sugar Lips… where was my brother during all of this?”

Phil hadn’t expected the question and hesitated. “Thor? What does this have to do with him?”

“Exactly. What do any of your problems have to do with Thor? Was he here to save you? To fight beside you? To rescue your men?”

Phil was suddenly filled with alarm. He advanced on Loki. “What have you done to Thor?”

Loki raised a hand to Phil’s chest and stopped him moving. Phil felt like he couldn’t move at all; like he was bound to the floor. Loki slowly lifted his hand and placed a finger over Phil’s mouth.

“Shhh….” he said, leaning in closely. “Stop talking and listen for once.” He stepped back and Phil remained rooted to the floor. He watched Loki carefully; it was all he could do.

“I have done nothing to my dear brother, he just simply isn’t here. He’s not called the god of Thunder for just any old reason, you know. He _needs_ the thunder to call him. He’s slow, unobservant, and easily distracted. When monsters invade and buildings fall, then yes… the lumbering brute will notice and come running to protect his precious Earth. But when threats are more subtle… well, let’s just say that I wouldn’t count on him to be there. You’ll need someone with a bit more… intelligence.”

Phil shook his head. “You don’t honestly expect me to believe _you’ll_ protect us, do you?”

Loki laughed a full, hearty laugh. “Good heavens, no. The very idea is absurd.” He stepped closer and got within inches of Phil’s face. “No, that task falls to you.”

“Then why did you start this game? You didn’t think I had enough threats to deal with?”

“Of course not - one can never have enough threats - but my reasons were more direct. How are weapons forged if not in fire, Sugar Lips? You have grown soft and complacent. It is time you corrected that.”

“And why is that?” Phil asked.

Loki sneered. “Because I intend to kill you. No one will take that right from me.”

“So, all of this was just to kill me? That seems like incredibly bad planning…”

“Oh no, not now, Sugar Lips. I will kill you in my own time, when I choose to do so. Until then, I need you to live, which means, I need you to survive the threats of this world and not come to rely on some other _hero_ stepping in and fighting the monsters for you. Consider this your basic training and prepare yourself for more to come.”

Phil shivered involuntarily. “We’ll stop you, Loki.”

“We? And who exactly are ‘we?’”

“The Avengers.”

Loki laughed again. “Oh really, Sugar Lips? Tell me… where is Mr. Stark?”

Phil had no answer. When Bruce had stepped into Steve’s control room and announced Tony was gone, he’d meant it quite literally. Bruce had awoken to find that Pepper and the medical team had moved Tony in the night. She’d left no indication of where they were going and the remaining medical staff had refused to say, if they even knew at all.

“I don’t know,” Phil said finally.

“Hmm…” Loki said in agreement. “That’s because Miss Potts does not want you to know. She’s taken him away from you - from all of you and all of this. And your Dr. Banner? Where do you think he is right now?”

Again, Phil didn’t know. “I’ll find him.”

“I have no doubt that you will, but do you really think he will return with you? Suit up for S.H.I.E.L.D.? I mean, what will you do; use your lady warrior to drag him back to Stark Tower? No, love. I think that ship has sailed. I think with Stark gone, he’ll find a way to quietly disappear into the world and stay out of your reach.”

“I’ll find them both,” Phil said resolutely.

“That’s admirable, but personally? I think the only one you should be looking for right now is your little Cupid.” Loki looked at Phil with mock concern. “Where do you think he is?”

Phil was flushed with anger as he struggled to move at Loki. “If you…”

“Shhhh….” Loki said, stopping Phil’s struggle with a finger. “Mr. Barton is just fine. He’s waiting patiently for you, as a matter of fact. I escorted him to a secure room and, well… our debt is now clear.”

“What did you…”

“Oh that’s right,” Loki said, again with a look of concern. “You told me _you_ wanted to choose when and how we settled that debt. How silly of me. I’ll return him at once to the state in which I found him…”

“Wait,” Phil said. “You saved him?”

Loki smiled. “In a fashion, I saved you as well.” He stepped closer and with a deadly serious look. “Say you now – is the debt clear?”

Phil knew it was more than likely he was again being played, but he couldn’t take another chance with Clint’s life. No favor was worth such. He nodded and Loki smiled.

“Excellent,” Loki replied. “He’s sleeping it off in an interrogation room. Give him my love. We’ll speak again soon, Sugar Lips,” he said with a flourished bow before disappearing. Phil was suddenly released from his invisible bonds and rushed off to find Clint.

***

Phil found Clint unconscious in the interrogation room and had him moved to Medical.  He was determined to be the first person Clint saw when he woke and, so, stayed by his side all day and through the night. At some point, he laid his head on the bed and fell asleep as his own exhaustion took hold.

A noise startled him awake in the early hours and he looked to see Clint up and moving towards the door.

“Clint?”

Clint didn’t stop; he continued moving through the door and out into the hallway.

Phil got up and followed. “Clint. Clint, wait.” But Clint didn’t stop. He continued to the elevator and hit the call button. Phil went up and put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey…”

Clint spun and pushed him away. The door opened and Clint stepped in. Phil moved to follow, but Clint again reached out to push him. Phil’s training kicked in and he reacted by locking Clint’s arm and swinging him out of the elevator. Clint’s training kicked in as well, though, and he reversed on Phil, flipping him over his shoulder and dropping him on his back. Clint stepped away and got back in the elevator as the doors shut.

Phil watched the read-out for a moment and saw the elevator was going up. He ran for the stairs and sprinted up several flights to the roof. He walked out and looked around, but saw no sign of Clint. He spun around in place, looking high and low for where he might have gone. He was about to run back inside, figuring he’d missed Clint on another floor, when he heard a quiet shuffling noise from just beyond the ledge. Phil walked over and looked down. Clint sat on a narrow ledge, one flight below. He was looking out over the city and decidedly not looking up at Phil.

“Clint,” Phil called down. Getting no response, he hopped over and eased himself down as Clint must have done. He didn’t have Clint’s sense of balance, so he shuffled along carefully until he was within arms’ reach of Clint.

“Hey,” he said after a moment. “Are you alright?”

Clint didn’t respond at first, but then slowly shook his head. The movement and Clint’s obvious vulnerability broke Phil’s heart. He looked around him for a hand-hold so he could keep his balance and sit down next to him. Without saying a word or even looking up, Clint held up a supporting hand and helped Phil ease down next to him.

They sat quietly for a moment; Phil pressing what he hoped was the reassuring weight of his shoulder against Clint's. He gave Clint time, not wanting to press him to speak until he was finally ready.

“I’m not going to jump,” Clint said, finally.

“I didn’t think you were,” Phil replied. “I assumed you just wanted some space.”

Clint nodded and closed his eyes. “I can’t go back in there, Phil,” he said after several more minutes. “I don’t want to. They were in my head same as Loki. They’re no different.”

Phil knew that wasn’t quite true; Phil knew many good agents, Nat, Fury and Maria among them. He knew Clint meant the Triumvirate who had orchestrated the neural links, not S.H.I.E.L.D. itself… but there was no getting around the fact that Clint was a high level agent who had been tortured and used as a weapon by his own agency. It was a wrong that might never be righted.

“You don’t have to,” Phil said finally.  “What would you rather do?”

“Leave,” he responded without hesitating.

“Alright. We can head back to the bar and get something to eat…”

“No. I want to leave. Really leave.” He looked up at Phil.

“Leave… New York?” Phil guessed.

“New York, S.H.I.E.L.D., all of it. I want to go.”

“Go where?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care. It doesn’t matter. Just go. I want to go…” he was getting upset and hurriedly pushing himself up to his feet. For the first time ever, Phil was actually concerned Clint might lose his balance.

“Alright, alright,” he said, urging Clint to sit back down. “You need time. That’s understandable.”

“Too many people in my head, Phil. I can’t live like this. I can’t always be wondering if… if I’m me.”

Phil nodded. “I can understand that, Clint.”

Clint again looked up at him. “How can you stand it, Phil? Don’t you wonder if they’ll get in your head, too?”

Phil didn’t think his synthetic brain could be controlled, but then again, if he’d been told a week earlier that a synthetic brain could be constructed at all, he would have doubted that too. Phil trusted Fury and Hill not to try and find a way to use new tech against him, but as this little game of Loki’s had proven, that might not be enough to protect him forever. If properly motivated, Phil had no doubt S.H.I.E.L.D.’s or some other group’s scientists could find a way into his head. It was a chilling thought, but Phil shook it from his head.

“Maybe they will someday. But for right now, I know Maria helped me find you and I know there are a lot of other good agents down there doing good work, keeping us all safe.”

“It only takes one, Phil,” Clint replied and Phil knew he was not wrong. One person in the right place and time, with the right amount of power, could turn an entire organization on a dime. The mutants could surely testify to that. “It’s like it was in the Circus; everything was fine until one day it wasn’t. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s no different. I can’t stay here anymore.”

“OK. Where will you go instead?”

“I don’t care,” Clint replied. He looked at Phil with pleading eyes. “Come with me, Phil. Let’s go today and disappear. Just walk away from it all.”

“Clint, I can’t just leave S.H.I.E.L.D.”

 “Why not? You don’t owe them anything. You know what they told me? That they shut you down and shipped you to a warehouse. Was that true?”

“They tried to, but Maria helped me out.”

“Maria helped you out, huh? Well where the hell was she when they were shoving electrodes in my head?” he asked harshly. “Where was she when they…”

“When they what, Clint?” Phil asked when he didn’t finish the sentence, but Clint shut his eyes and shook his head again. Phil reached out and took his hand. “What did they do, Clint?”

“Nothing,” he replied quickly and Phil felt his heart break again. Even now, Clint couldn’t trust him.

“I was tortured once,” Phil said.

Clint nodded. “I’ve seen the scars.”

“You never asked about them and I appreciate that. It’s not something I like to talk about so believe me when I say I understand that you won’t want to talk about it either.” He took a breath and pushed away the memories before they could become overwhelming. He focused instead on the point he wanted to make. “I survived it because Maria understood. She was my partner and she listened to me even when I wouldn’t speak. She stayed by me and made sure I kept going.”

He turned his head and made sure Clint was looking at him. “I understand, Clint. And I’m listening. And I’m going to stand by you and keep you moving forward. Do you trust me to do that?”

Clint nodded in response and Phil smiled at him. “I know you need some time, so we’ll take it together. Then we’ll figure out the next part. Alright?”

Phil watched as Clint’s muscles visibly relaxed. He leaned forward and kissed him. “It’s going to be ok, Clint. I promise.”

They sat together for some time and watched the sun rise over the city. Then they quietly got up and left for the middle of nowhere.

***

Odin stood waiting as Loki returned to Asgard.

“You have been to Earth again.”

“Yes, Father. Mother left me with a task to complete.”

“Mmmm…” Odin said in an amused way. “So you’ve settled your debt to Philip, have you?”

Loki smiled. “Yes, Father. I am a free man once again.”

“And that’s _all_ you did, is it? Settled your debt and returned? You gained no advantage from the situation?”

“Mother never said I couldn’t gain an advantage.”

“Mmmm…” Odin said again, turning to walk inside the palace. Loki fell in step beside him.

“Wouldn’t you have thought less of me, Father, if I had allowed a human to dictate terms to me, a Son of Asgard?”

Odin nodded. “Yes, I believe I would have. What advantage have you gained?”

“The overseeing head has been cut from S.H.I.E.L.D., the so-called Avengers are scattered to the winds, and my nemesis has run away with his lover. I don’t believe Earth has ever been so vulnerable.”

“As ever, Loki, you excel in the skills of deception and manipulation. You are indeed a fine warrior; I only wish someday you can be an honorable one as well.”

“Father…” he replied in mocking tone. “Honor rarely brings about victory.”

“Perhaps,” Odin conceded. “But to gain it is often the only victory worth pursuing. This _human_ whom you see fit to call your nemesis understands that better than most. Be careful of the games you play with him, my son. You may not like the result.”

Loki stopped and allowed Odin to continue walking without him. “Perhaps, old man,” he said once Odin was out of ear shot. “But perhaps neither will you.”   

 

 


End file.
